[perhaps, just perhaps there's some value to Kleken's odd warnings about being dragged into the depths.
Not that he'd think it was literal, if he had the mind to think at all, but even so. The state he's in right now certainly feels apropos to a sailor adrift in endless sea, fully at the mercy of the tide and the waves. How long has he been like this? It's impossible for him to guess when Kleken's thrusts keep lighting up overworked nerves and dragging him further into the throes of... what, exactly? A prolonged orgasm maybe, or so many tiny ones in rapid succession that all coalesce to rip any fractured sliver of sanity he could grasp. Something—hand, tentacle, he doesn't know nor actually care—teases his nipple and his only recourse is to make a soft, wrecked noise.
Actually, that's about as much as he has left in him right now. Kleken speaks and his head shifts slightly in distant awareness, replies in whimpers and gasps. His skin feels like fire, and some indescribable sensation claws at every part of him, revived with every movement.
Does he adore this feeling? It's devastating. He hurts in ways he wasn't aware he could hurt, he's hot and shivering and helpless. He wants to hate it.
He wants to.
But as Kleken speaks, his voice slightly tremulous with his pace, he doesn't. As eggs jolt and shift inside his belly, Luke is forced to realise that for once, he's been fully taken out of his thoughts and worries and efficiency. That every pain is also pure pleasure, even as the thick haze of the aphrodisiac is starting to clear.
That's probably at least partially the persistent bullying forcibly rewriting things in his brain, of course. He shouldn't want this to continue, to happen again. Like, he really, really shouldn't.
Instead, he finds himself wondering how it would feel if he wasn't drugged out of his mind from touch one. There are ways to fit an encounter like this comfortably into his life anyway; a proper balance is important for everyone's health, he always says.
Never mind that there's nothing even slightly healthy about this.]
[ There is no such thing as a healthy anything when it comes to dealing with Kleken. Not for a man who will throw himself tentacles-first into danger, thrill, and everything in between for the sake of finding his own pleasure, whatever form it may come in. He knows there's still the very real chance that Luke could incapacitate him- kill him even, if his status as the right hand man to the Istvan Gang wasn't enough to spare his life- once the drugs wore off and his mind slid back into place. That this could end very terribly for him once he's had his fun. ]
[ But still he chases the high. Fucks into Luke like he owns him, which he greedily thinks he has for the past however long it's been. Uses his tentacles to widen the spread of the man's legs even further and lean over him so that the other can feel the full weight of his body and the thrusts into him. Pinches and tugs and massages over those nipples, tilts his head so he can bite at one and tug the other until they're as tender and sore as his cunt. ]
You- are perfect like this-
[ Releases inside of him with a low moan that's pressed against his chest, buried deeply in enough that his cock kisses against that abuse inner entrance and marking Luke over and over from the inside one more time. ]
[ Ruining him as Kleken's, for however long he might have him. ]
[He's certainly intending to have some serious self-reflection about this later. Whether or not Kleken is "safe" is anyone's guess... but he's done something no one else has, at least.
No, not just overfilling him with tentacles and manufactured eggs, either. It's somehow more than that, as Luke's whole body twitches and trembles. It's in the glassy look in his eyes, the way his hands move to almost cradle Kleken's shoulders as teeth bite and fingers pinch and pull at his nipples. He's never thought that much about sex and pleasure—it has its uses, especially for a mercenary, and some of his experiences had been rather pleasant, but...]
I'm... I...
[seed floods his cunt and pulls a trembling moan from him, and in his delirium he almost thinks he can feel some of it pouring into his womb to comfort his new clutch. The conman's cock certainly sits perfectly to do so, if it were possible—Luke can definitely feel it every time his muscles spasm and the tip kisses his cervix.]
Ugh... nnn...♡
[He's thoroughly broken, at the moment. Clawed fingertips graze over pale skin as the bugman collapses onto the table, gaze unfocused, belly swollen and heavy. Luke may not be leaving in endurance under normal circumstances, but his body has nothing left to give now. He's a soft, supple, aching hole to be used at the other man's leisure. And really, given how badly he's soaked and how numb his cunt is, he can't even pretend he would care.
God, he's never come this many times or this hard with anyone else—it was true the last time, and certainly this time. It feels like he could sleep well for like a week right now while he incubates his babies.
Never mind that they're presumably not truly viable.]
[ There will, fortunately for everyone in the room and the city, be no baby Klekens spilling out of Luke's room anytime soon. The eggs will inevitably disintegrate into their original gel-liquid form mixed with the natural gel-like mucous layer on his tentacles within a few hours and flood out of the man, that's something Kleken tested himself before all of this. Whenever Luke came back to his senses, he'd be clutch-less, a fact that Kleken had taken care to ensure out of dark curiosity. ]
[ Had his eggs been satisfying enough for Luke to seek him out again in the future to give them to him again? Would he be able to set aside his pride to ask for it? He rather thought he'd done an excellent job of letting Luke taste why he might seek Kleken out again, and through the haze of his own orgasm, he knows it'll be hard to wash out his scent from the man for a good few days, thick as the gel was and deep as it was. Luke would be carrying traces of him for a good while, reminded to Kleken's presence inside of him. Just the way Kleken wanted. ]
[ The thought, the madness of all his carefully crafted plans coming to fruition at this moment and laying the potential seeds for the future has his cock twitching in response, Kleken's own laugh breathless and worn through even as he shifts into a slow, lazy rocking of his hips. ]
Lose yourself to me. I'll take care to make sure this body of yours thoroughly remembers me, just as you want.
[ Is that what Luke wants or is that what Kleken is trying to convince Luke that he wants, what's the difference to a pair of minds as far gone in this debauched scenario as theirs? ]
[It's a scent that will remind him of the reality, even more than how sore he's going to be. Moreover, even if there's no chance anyone will be able to tell who he was with, he's still going to end up hiding away until the distinct tang of sex isn't so... dramatic. He's a professional and all, you see.
Which is why it's such a rarity to see him like this, expressions soft and tired, even sweet. Kleken's lazy movements hold all of the tatters of Luke's attention. There's even something almost... cute about his breathless laugh, vulnerable in its exhaustion.
Acknowledgement of the words comes in the slightest shift. A tip of the head toward the conductor of his madness and the worn, shaky shift of arms around shoulders to draw his face close. Luke doesn't have the coordination for more than that, but there's satisfaction in the mingle of breath nonetheless.]
[ Kleken would fuck him a hundred times over, if it meant seeing this expression again. That he would even if he didn't was hardly the point; Luke's frankly adorable expression captures all of the conman's attention, and that small laugh of his. ]
[ Oh, how Kleken wanted to keep it all for his own. ]
[ Could it be a trap? He doesn't think Luke has the mind to lay one anymore, but he tosses caution aside all the same and leans into those arms and lets himself be drawn up close. So close he can feather a kiss against those tempting lips, light and airy and a small sweetness to them. ]
[ As if they were really lovers. ]
You did splendidly. And you'll take care of them well, I'm certain.
[that sweetness only settles Luke more, mouths close and bodies closer. Entangled, he feels a sense of... strange belonging, stirred in soft words. It's true enough—he would certainly take care of any brood he bore, no matter the circumstances. Teach them to see through someone as awful as Kleken, to be the kind of people who earn their place without subterfuge.]
Mm. I will.
[He's fading now; less to sleep than to the oblivion of every throb and ache, of course. More like their first experience, when at the end of it all he'd been splayed out in the chair, losing everything to the insistent press of tentacles. The table is less than comfortable, if his spasming muscles suggest anything, but what can he do about it?]
... you didn't prepare a bed... did you?
[He's going to sleep for like a whole day after all this.]
[ There's a moment's temptation to tease him, to tell him that of course there isn't a bed in their meeting rooms and the man would have to somehow drag himself upright and out of the room while full of seed and eggs alike. A very long and large moment before he sweeps it away with an easy chuckle, brushing back the man's damp hair with a light brush. ]
I'll arrange one for you.
[ He has one arranged already in another room, a tentacle reaching out behind him to open the secret passage known only to those in the Istvan Gang that would lead them there. He idly notes to himself that he'll have to pass on that leak of information to his boss at some point. He won't tell the man the specifics, and he's rather sure if he smiles a certain smile the man won't ask, but he will receive a reprimanding lecture for using such secrets for his own purpose. ]
[ Glancing back at Luke as his tentacles proceed to pick the limp man up, others working quickly to clean up the room to its prior state and picking up ever condemning piece of clothing that's been shed along the way, the sight of such vulnerability makes the cost feel rather worth it. ]
[It probably wouldn't have landed well, given Luke's current state. Rather, he just would have had to accept that he was stuck here then, because there's no possible way his legs are going to carry him and his arms aren't that strong.
As it stands, his eyes close lightly at the brush of fingers over his hair, pushing it out of his face as Kleken speaks so... kindly, somehow. That should probably worry him. Well, problems for later.
Here and there, the tentacles earn a soft little hiss or a wince as they gather him up; no amount of tender care can really overcome the sheer ache of everything he'd just endured. Still, he doesn't complain about it, or try to hinder them in any way; he's more like a bug in that moment, too—curling into the embrace of those tentacles as though they were some sort of cocoon. Ah, he's so tired...]
... mmn.
[barely a hum of acknowledgement, and Luke continues that stretch of vulnerability. There's nothing left in him to protest, let alone to be lively. Rest is an easy order to agree to, as such, hands and legs curled to gently, protectively cradle his distended belly, weight fully relinquished into the tentacles' care as consciousness wanes.]
[ He smiles again at the noise, at the exhaustion yet contentment that exudes from the man wrapped up in his tentacles as he carefully escorts him through the passage, opening the door to a simple and clean bedroom, the curtains drawn to block out the sun's light. A bedroom he'd pointedly told the building guards to avoid for a full 24 hours with a look he knew would keep them away. A pitcher of water and a few bread rolls sit on the table next to the bed he carefully lays Luke onto, take a chair while his tentacles take to work using a water basic to clean the man off properly. ]
[ All of it a level of aftercare probably strange to associate with the man. As if Kleken had been thoughtful about giving the man some time and resources to recover even after he awoke from his exhaustion. ]
[ Kleken himself cleans up in the attached bathroom, changing into clothes he'd kept waiting for himself while a few of his tentacles keep an 'eye' on their guest. Though he doubts the man will be waking anytime soon. ]
[ Whenever Luke comes to, Kleken and his tentacles will be gone. All that remains of him is a note left on the bedside table, his writing neatly on it, and the eggs still inside the man's womb. ]
They will disappear in a few days. Schedule an appointment with me if you'd like more.
[He's surely out for at least the next few hours, worn into quiet exhaustion. The most movement he makes is just in being set down on the bed, in fact—simply to curl properly in place. Beyond it he's quiet and still, belly rising and falling with slow, calm breath.
And when he wakes... oh, to say everything hurts is almost an understatement. It outlines just how real everything was—not that he can imagine he would have dreamt something like that unprompted. Certainly not with Kleken, of all people. True, Luke doesn't buy the deeply negative inferences people tend to throw around the conman, as though he has no redeeming qualities... he's too observant to have missed the occasional slip of the persona. That doesn't make him a more tempting candidate for a bed partner.
schedule an appointment, he writes. The utter gall. He can barely think beyond the ache and the strange feeling of fullness, why would he... well, okay, yes, he can think of a few reasons.
And a few more, in the coming days. Because as it turns out, Luke seems to be quite the breeding type—once his aches have subsided, he finds himself frustratingly needy any time the eggs shift inside him. Not even under pain of death will he admit how many times he has to get off in the shower when he can finally use it, nor how disappointed and empty he feels when the eggs are gone. If he gets deep enough, he can still scratch that deep itch, just for a moment...]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lieabilities) wrote2024-03-31 01:33 am
no subject
Not that he'd think it was literal, if he had the mind to think at all, but even so. The state he's in right now certainly feels apropos to a sailor adrift in endless sea, fully at the mercy of the tide and the waves. How long has he been like this? It's impossible for him to guess when Kleken's thrusts keep lighting up overworked nerves and dragging him further into the throes of... what, exactly? A prolonged orgasm maybe, or so many tiny ones in rapid succession that all coalesce to rip any fractured sliver of sanity he could grasp. Something—hand, tentacle, he doesn't know nor actually care—teases his nipple and his only recourse is to make a soft, wrecked noise.
Actually, that's about as much as he has left in him right now. Kleken speaks and his head shifts slightly in distant awareness, replies in whimpers and gasps. His skin feels like fire, and some indescribable sensation claws at every part of him, revived with every movement.
Does he adore this feeling? It's devastating. He hurts in ways he wasn't aware he could hurt, he's hot and shivering and helpless. He wants to hate it.
He wants to.
But as Kleken speaks, his voice slightly tremulous with his pace, he doesn't. As eggs jolt and shift inside his belly, Luke is forced to realise that for once, he's been fully taken out of his thoughts and worries and efficiency. That every pain is also pure pleasure, even as the thick haze of the aphrodisiac is starting to clear.
That's probably at least partially the persistent bullying forcibly rewriting things in his brain, of course. He shouldn't want this to continue, to happen again. Like, he really, really shouldn't.
Instead, he finds himself wondering how it would feel if he wasn't drugged out of his mind from touch one. There are ways to fit an encounter like this comfortably into his life anyway; a proper balance is important for everyone's health, he always says.
Never mind that there's nothing even slightly healthy about this.]
no subject
[ But still he chases the high. Fucks into Luke like he owns him, which he greedily thinks he has for the past however long it's been. Uses his tentacles to widen the spread of the man's legs even further and lean over him so that the other can feel the full weight of his body and the thrusts into him. Pinches and tugs and massages over those nipples, tilts his head so he can bite at one and tug the other until they're as tender and sore as his cunt. ]
You- are perfect like this-
[ Releases inside of him with a low moan that's pressed against his chest, buried deeply in enough that his cock kisses against that abuse inner entrance and marking Luke over and over from the inside one more time. ]
[ Ruining him as Kleken's, for however long he might have him. ]
no subject
No, not just overfilling him with tentacles and manufactured eggs, either. It's somehow more than that, as Luke's whole body twitches and trembles. It's in the glassy look in his eyes, the way his hands move to almost cradle Kleken's shoulders as teeth bite and fingers pinch and pull at his nipples. He's never thought that much about sex and pleasure—it has its uses, especially for a mercenary, and some of his experiences had been rather pleasant, but...]
I'm... I...
[seed floods his cunt and pulls a trembling moan from him, and in his delirium he almost thinks he can feel some of it pouring into his womb to comfort his new clutch. The conman's cock certainly sits perfectly to do so, if it were possible—Luke can definitely feel it every time his muscles spasm and the tip kisses his cervix.]
Ugh... nnn...♡
[He's thoroughly broken, at the moment. Clawed fingertips graze over pale skin as the bugman collapses onto the table, gaze unfocused, belly swollen and heavy. Luke may not be leaving in endurance under normal circumstances, but his body has nothing left to give now. He's a soft, supple, aching hole to be used at the other man's leisure. And really, given how badly he's soaked and how numb his cunt is, he can't even pretend he would care.
God, he's never come this many times or this hard with anyone else—it was true the last time, and certainly this time. It feels like he could sleep well for like a week right now while he incubates his babies.
Never mind that they're presumably not truly viable.]
no subject
[ Had his eggs been satisfying enough for Luke to seek him out again in the future to give them to him again? Would he be able to set aside his pride to ask for it? He rather thought he'd done an excellent job of letting Luke taste why he might seek Kleken out again, and through the haze of his own orgasm, he knows it'll be hard to wash out his scent from the man for a good few days, thick as the gel was and deep as it was. Luke would be carrying traces of him for a good while, reminded to Kleken's presence inside of him. Just the way Kleken wanted. ]
[ The thought, the madness of all his carefully crafted plans coming to fruition at this moment and laying the potential seeds for the future has his cock twitching in response, Kleken's own laugh breathless and worn through even as he shifts into a slow, lazy rocking of his hips. ]
Lose yourself to me. I'll take care to make sure this body of yours thoroughly remembers me, just as you want.
[ Is that what Luke wants or is that what Kleken is trying to convince Luke that he wants, what's the difference to a pair of minds as far gone in this debauched scenario as theirs? ]
no subject
Which is why it's such a rarity to see him like this, expressions soft and tired, even sweet. Kleken's lazy movements hold all of the tatters of Luke's attention. There's even something almost... cute about his breathless laugh, vulnerable in its exhaustion.
Acknowledgement of the words comes in the slightest shift. A tip of the head toward the conductor of his madness and the worn, shaky shift of arms around shoulders to draw his face close. Luke doesn't have the coordination for more than that, but there's satisfaction in the mingle of breath nonetheless.]
no subject
[ Oh, how Kleken wanted to keep it all for his own. ]
[ Could it be a trap? He doesn't think Luke has the mind to lay one anymore, but he tosses caution aside all the same and leans into those arms and lets himself be drawn up close. So close he can feather a kiss against those tempting lips, light and airy and a small sweetness to them. ]
[ As if they were really lovers. ]
You did splendidly. And you'll take care of them well, I'm certain.
no subject
Mm. I will.
[He's fading now; less to sleep than to the oblivion of every throb and ache, of course. More like their first experience, when at the end of it all he'd been splayed out in the chair, losing everything to the insistent press of tentacles. The table is less than comfortable, if his spasming muscles suggest anything, but what can he do about it?]
... you didn't prepare a bed... did you?
[He's going to sleep for like a whole day after all this.]
no subject
I'll arrange one for you.
[ He has one arranged already in another room, a tentacle reaching out behind him to open the secret passage known only to those in the Istvan Gang that would lead them there. He idly notes to himself that he'll have to pass on that leak of information to his boss at some point. He won't tell the man the specifics, and he's rather sure if he smiles a certain smile the man won't ask, but he will receive a reprimanding lecture for using such secrets for his own purpose. ]
[ Glancing back at Luke as his tentacles proceed to pick the limp man up, others working quickly to clean up the room to its prior state and picking up ever condemning piece of clothing that's been shed along the way, the sight of such vulnerability makes the cost feel rather worth it. ]
Do rest.
no subject
As it stands, his eyes close lightly at the brush of fingers over his hair, pushing it out of his face as Kleken speaks so... kindly, somehow. That should probably worry him. Well, problems for later.
Here and there, the tentacles earn a soft little hiss or a wince as they gather him up; no amount of tender care can really overcome the sheer ache of everything he'd just endured. Still, he doesn't complain about it, or try to hinder them in any way; he's more like a bug in that moment, too—curling into the embrace of those tentacles as though they were some sort of cocoon. Ah, he's so tired...]
... mmn.
[barely a hum of acknowledgement, and Luke continues that stretch of vulnerability. There's nothing left in him to protest, let alone to be lively. Rest is an easy order to agree to, as such, hands and legs curled to gently, protectively cradle his distended belly, weight fully relinquished into the tentacles' care as consciousness wanes.]
no subject
[ All of it a level of aftercare probably strange to associate with the man. As if Kleken had been thoughtful about giving the man some time and resources to recover even after he awoke from his exhaustion. ]
[ Kleken himself cleans up in the attached bathroom, changing into clothes he'd kept waiting for himself while a few of his tentacles keep an 'eye' on their guest. Though he doubts the man will be waking anytime soon. ]
[ Whenever Luke comes to, Kleken and his tentacles will be gone. All that remains of him is a note left on the bedside table, his writing neatly on it, and the eggs still inside the man's womb. ]
They will disappear in a few days. Schedule an appointment with me if you'd like more.
no subject
And when he wakes... oh, to say everything hurts is almost an understatement. It outlines just how real everything was—not that he can imagine he would have dreamt something like that unprompted. Certainly not with Kleken, of all people. True, Luke doesn't buy the deeply negative inferences people tend to throw around the conman, as though he has no redeeming qualities... he's too observant to have missed the occasional slip of the persona. That doesn't make him a more tempting candidate for a bed partner.
schedule an appointment, he writes. The utter gall. He can barely think beyond the ache and the strange feeling of fullness, why would he... well, okay, yes, he can think of a few reasons.
And a few more, in the coming days. Because as it turns out, Luke seems to be quite the breeding type—once his aches have subsided, he finds himself frustratingly needy any time the eggs shift inside him. Not even under pain of death will he admit how many times he has to get off in the shower when he can finally use it, nor how disappointed and empty he feels when the eggs are gone. If he gets deep enough, he can still scratch that deep itch, just for a moment...]