Today I went to a friend's house and forgot he was really enthusiastic about guns, so he showed me his collection of toy ones upon request. I picked up a smaller, realistic one and grabbed him by his ponytail, playfully hitting it's slide on his cheek. I was just trying to take a reaction out if him since he had been telling me for ages about how he was definetly not gay, much less a masochist, but things got... odd.

I rubbed the gun's muzzle against his lips with a grin, trying to sweet talk him into taking it while he forced himself to not say a thing.

In the end, I thrusted it in his mouth a few times and he finally got brave enough to deepthroat it, gagging, coughing and tearing up. I patted his head and told him what a good boy he was for me and how he did such a good job. He was impossibly embarassed but I swore I saw his dick twitching under his shorts.

We laughed it off and nothing else really happened, but I still haven't stopped thinking about it. Fuck.

Day 6: Edging

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” 

If glowering were a vocal phenomenon, you would have been able to hear Louis’s expression in New Jersey. It didn’t seem to deter Daniel, but the man was a professional when it came to poor impulse control and no self preservation so this was hardly a surprise. 

Lestat was unable to see what was happening for himself. He was sitting on his stomach with his back to Louis and his alchemy on Armand’s ridiculously opulent dresser. Even watching Louis’s actions through Daniel’s eyes, Lestat was struck by how different he could look as if one of those camera phone filters were placed upon him. Still his Louis, of course, but somehow lighter, without a weight. It could be his imagination, but it seemed the same when Armand granted him access to his mind too. Little differences in perception.

“I know this has become something of a joke now, but I’m very adept with candles.” The flickering flame came to life in his hand with a singular strike of a match. So like Louis it was to prefer the physicality of the match, the feeling of the stick in his hand, the motion of lighting it more visceral than to use one of Daniel’s modern contraptions that you rolled your thumb over to light. 

“No one is questioning how adept you are with fire,” Lestat called back to him. “Least of all those of us who have experienced it first hand.”

“Pretty sure that’s just you,” Daniel oh so helpfully pointed out complete with a passable head pat for his troubles.

“I’ve always known our relationship was special,” Lestat sniffed at him. “I wouldn’t rule you experiencing a little toastiness out, isn't that something of your blood lineage’s pattern? Everyone but you?”

Daniel made a humming noise from his throat, “Bianca hasn’t.”

“Bianca isn’t direct,” Lestat pointed out. “If you go directly back to the Mother herself-”

The sudden burning heat of the wax was so sudden and so deliciously unbearable that Lestat was stopped mid flow, his words forgotten as the heat slithered down his back at an angle. The strangest sensation of it, the way Louis was carefully and purposefully covering his back.

For a younger vampire, this could perhaps have proven fatal. Even for Daniel with Armand’s blood in his veins, it could potentially spell his doom if Lestat were to buck up in exactly the wrong way and splatter him. That would defeat the purpose of this exercise, but accidents could happen.

If your desire to become my canvas costs me my firstborn, you’ll have more to worry about than the aesthetic cost. Armand’s voice dropped into his mind without warning and Lestat smiled to himself at the familiar timbre.

I promise to get you a new child to play with if I do. Plenty of other pretty blonde creatives in the sea.

Lestat didn’t have to see him to know his face at the statement, he could imagine it well enough to giggle and get a sharp smack to his shoulder. Those were not Armand’s hands – he had come to know the different ways the skin could be impacted by his hands and in comparison to Louis’ and this was most definitely the laughter.

Slipping into Daniel’s mind, he could see Armand fussing with the sharpened, pearl handled blade that he intended to use. It would take some time for the wax to cool, an hour or two at least if not more, so if Lesat was going to have to remain still in that time then at least he ought to be allowed his mirth.

Especially given how excruciatingly slow and methodical Louis was being. Every time the beautiful burning subsided, he would feel it elsewhere on his skin – so much care, so much control and all for him. It wasn’t that he was squirming on purpose but given the way his daredevilry was put on hold to become the sacred core and he couldn't risk himself or condemn the youngest and weakest to pain or even death, pain was such a luxury that he couldn’t help himself but groan under it.

It was only when it had hardened enough to stay in place that Lestat sat up to give Armand his canvas. It would make a beautiful carving, but Armand had stipulated Lestat may not see till its ending and had banished Daniel to the other side of him in case he chose to be devious about it. As if Armand were not the most devious and skilled with a blade in the room. Lestat was determined to be his lover's masterpiece and willed himself still as Armand cut into the wax and skill, drawing the blood to the surface to fill in the cracks in the wax. What he was drawing, Lestat did not know and for now, didn’t care – it was the most intense stinging pain, but Armand’s hands were so gentle on him that Lestat had never felt quite so relaxed and worked up at the same time.

It felt as if he were drifting, the echo of pain and what it felt like in his system. The smell of the wax and tang of the blood evoking memories of earlier times, not better times perhaps but important times, beautiful ones of the last – no, two centuries before. With every broken skin, the exposure to the air cooled the heat bruised skin.  

It was hard not to at least try to look, so Lestat tried to ground himself on other things: Louis’ exceptional State Candle collection from a subscription someone gave him at Christmas – that explained why he could smell sweet and warmth but he had assumed that was Louis’ new signature scent. Reflected in Daniel’s mind’s eye, Armand looked almost boyish in his concentration, his little tongue slipping out as he worked so carefully. The feeling of Daniel’s rough jeans beneath his arms, clearly not something Armand had picked out and Lestat was sure there would be consequences of this.

However, Lestat kept to his word. It took hours but when he was done, Lestat immediately demanded mirrors so he could see the work. It was so easy to see why people had considered Armand’s gifts to be something to do with divinity. Across his back in wax carving and blood stains where the wounds had healed, there was a snake eating itself – ouroboros, if he remembered correctly. A symbol of rebirth, never ending. Within it a tree, spindling branches reaching out as if to show that even though it looked barren, itt was instead ready to come into its bloom. 

“Yggdrasil in it,” Armand murmured, running his tongue over Lestat’s back. Even if he lapped at the blood, surely he was getting a mouthful of the wax too. “That is all things through all worlds reborn and forever.”

Just like them. Always reinvented, always gravitating together and always a home to return to.

“I never want to take it off.” Even after he made sure Daniel took around a thousand photographs of his proof of devotion that was encompassing his back, Lestat despaired over the idea of losing something so. But hadn’t that been their pattern too, to always lose one another and find their way back? Was it not fitting that something so agonising, stunningly beautiful and rendered from his lover's hands would be temporary? A reminder to always come back for more? “But we will do this again, won’t we?”

“I have fifty one more candles,” Louis replied, pressing a kiss to Lestat’s hair. “We have nothing but time.”

Knifeplay stuff from Mommy and I's anniversary weekend 🩵

FUCK and now i have a knifeplay kink

[age in blog or get blocked, minors DNI]

sometimes i think about how garak is the kind of old gay to wear a black turtleneck and wire rimmed glasses to read a book at a bar and who tries so hard to seem mysterious because that’s the only way he can even tangentially flirt, but everyone can tell it’s a sad old man ploy except this one guy, who has the reputation for being the shiniest naïvest kid on the block but the two of them start dating and everyone’s like oh no garak’s taken advantage of this hot young thing and conned him into hooking up with him but then they find out the kid actually has a fucked up intense cold machiavellian streak and that garak is using the fake mysteriousness to cover up the fact that he did war crimes for the CIA and is emotionally destroyed by his dishonorable discharge and somehow their initial guesses were kind of also correct but it’s bashir who has garak in a chokehold actually??

and everyone goes jesus christ thank god you two found each other you should never involve anyone else in whats going on with you.

I am happy to announce The Twisted Leprechaun Event: https://fetlife.com/events/1184946 - It’s a weekend long event in Philadelphia! Join Marti Parti’s second intensive, March 17-19th 2023! There is only a small number of tickets available so be sure to get them quickly! You can choose to come to some or all of it with a strictly social Friday Meet and Greet Potluck, Saturday classes all day and a play party renown for extreme adventures, and Sunday Open Space for further learning, conversations, and soft landing. Classes: - Determining Your Risk Profile by Lee Harrington - Head, Hair, and Face Bondage by Lee Harrington - Reassessing the Stoplight System - A personalized safeword workshop by mollie - Sadistic and Sensitive by MiaACTION - Whip It by Papa Scott - and more to come from: Lee Harrington @PassionandSoul Willow @Whomping_Willow Whittney @Ordealshaman Mia @MiaACTION Papa Scott @PapaScottFlogger mollie @molecute Robert @SiRoberto and Helen @Helen-Alexandria Check out more details at https://fetlife.com/events/1184946 or register at https://www.eventbrite.com/e/430191152317 Intensive ticket comes with a killer swag bag sponsored by Bad Dragon, Flogger Knows Best, Marti Parti and Passional! Early Bird Pricing till January 1st, 2023 is $150, Regular Pricing till March 1st, 2023 is $175, and Late Pricing till March 12th, 2023 is $200. “Holy Shit I Forgot” Pricing till March 16th, 2023 is $250. Ticket link: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/430191152317 #ExtremePlay #KinkEducation #PhiladelphiaKink #PassionAndSoul #KinkCommunity #EdgePlay https://www.instagram.com/p/Cjbbo49uRBE/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

i want his hands around my fucking throat oh my god

Stop teasing you? Let you cum?

Why would I want to? Desperation looks too good on you for me to do that, sweet thing. Going all red and whiny like that, gasping and panting on my fingers or my tongue. You sound so sweet when you're begging like that, too.

Why would I ever let you cum?

Into priests but not like bad touch priests as an altar boy but instead naïve and fully devout priests who will believe you if you tell them that you raping them is the will of god and you are delivering the seed of god into their ass :)

do u ever think abt how madara & hashirama's reunion during the war arc must have looked like to everyone else standing by? particularly thinking abt the 5 kage here like imagine if madara hadnt blown them up and tsunade was there when hashirama first got to the battlefield. tsunade, who had just listened to madara endlessly go on abt how much stronger than him hashirama is, how the only thing they would need to do to defeat him would be reviving hashirama and then he does get there and tsunade thinks to herself hah! now madara's gonna feel real stupid huh but then that scenario just. goes completely the other way around? madara's like yeeaasss hashiramaaaa 😆 FINALLY youre here! i've been waiting for u! lets fight!! and tsunade's like wait what but then she's like whatever, makes it easier to get him i guess but then Hashirama is like nahh :) not gonna fight him. and she's like .. what the hell? just go fight him? what the fuck is ur problem!?? youre the only one here who can actually do smth abt him he's torn everyone else to shreds but youre stronger than him and he's even Offering himself to u what the hell are u doing?? but then hashirama instead just tells him to sit down and surprisingly, he does, and he's like see? :) nothing to worry about. and tsunade's like alright i guess .. but also cant help but feel like she just witnessed some of part of her grandpa and his lover's dynamic that she wasnt all that keen on knowing about

btw fun fact when I look at your main on the app the paw is orange but on the computer it's black and this account is black on my computer too xD

.....

ALSO

I have a bone to pick with you bc I have never ever considered knifeplay and do you wanna know what the FUCK has been going on in my head

Just those two, taking turns, Marco healing you up after

Or even Izou delicately carving things into your skin. Not anything deep of course, but Marco doesn't heal those right away.

........

I am unwell over this Marco gives this such a low risk and now I want it

heeheehee, I'm delighted to have left this sort of mark in your brain, no pun intended

Izou would tie you up so pretty and perfect to do it, too. Sessions would start out with no rope at all, but as you get more comfortable with it he'd see if you're willing to combine shibari and knifeplay. Tugging on a rope that goes between your legs while making the slightest, shallowest cut elsewhere, just to get that perfect pain-pleasure cocktail. Then Marco's warm fingers brush over that spot, and the pain dissolves away while he kisses the back of your neck and tells you what a good job you're doing... 🫠🫠🫠

Once you have some experience and your pain tolerance is a little higher, Izou does multiple neat, connected cuts into a pretty, red symbol. Maybe the WBP symbol or a kanji that represents you, or a flower. They let that one stay on while they have their way with you, and don't heal it until the end of the session.

Kinktober 2023

Day 25: Hiro/Dagger--Edgeplay

*****

Everyone had their limits, even the most patient. It was odd to describe Dagger as patient, as much as he liked to indulge, but he had the habit of giving you just enough rope to hang yourself with—backed into a corner with minimal effort on his part, all a part of the game he’d been playing all along. But sometimes antagonizing him is deliberate, enough to see the controlled facade crack, measured even in its madness. 

The moment the blindfold slipped over his eyes, it should have tipped him off, head trying to follow him, even in it’s futility, hand cupping his cheek, words soft and venomous.

“I hope you can sit still for me.” 

It’s enough to give him pause, breath frozen in his throat, made the more frigid as Dagger pulls away, resisting the urge to chase his touch. “What are you doing?” He hates how unsteady his voice sounds, everything that much louder, more intense without context. He’s not graced with an answer, the rasp of metal reaching his ears, surface digging in beneath his chin, just enough to threaten, feel his throat bob against the knife wedged firmly in place. 

“Don’t move.” 

Although he’d seldom consider himself obedient, the alternative doesn’t cross his mind. He doesn’t think Dagger wants him bleeding out in his floor, as much as he himself doesn’t want that, but it’s little reassurance, a glimmer of uncertainty that has him pliant. Even as he can’t hear him, he hears the smile in his words, something wicked, eyes glittering with a promise of pain. 

“I didn’t like how you were looking at that man today.” 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Even as he says it, he knows it’s a lie, knows the other man does too. 

“M’loyal, not blind. You were looking too.”

“That’s okay, though.”

He pauses, words bitten off, argument dying on his tongue, even as he’d promised himself he wouldn’t. 

“Wasn’t going to do anything. Just…wanted attention. Yours.”

“That’s okay. You’ve got it now. It’s understandable, memory fails everyone, right? You should know who you belong to”

The knife trails down, softly at first until the tip catches, digging in just enough, until a thin line wells up—beading scarlet against his skin. His lips follow, hot against his skin—a soft moan bubbling in his throat.

“I’ll give you a way to remember.” 

—

(Ft. @wraithsoutlaws's Dagger 🖤🔪)