#ooc: just a fun little piece to really kick him in the dick <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[qbluster]

A Lack of RACK

RACK. Risk Aware Consensual Kink This is the absolute barest standard you have to reach during sex. Like most bare standards, Quinton failed to get even close.

M/M, general grappling sort of violence, some biting, undernegotiated kink is the biggest factor, unsafe choking, normal amounts of crude language and slur usage for my blogs. Best way to describe it is that if you have ever spoken to me before you understand what is in here.

What comes to mind first is justifications, he was drunk and otherwise inebriated, he didn’t read the social cues correctly, he got caught up in the moment-.

What comes to mind second, once the world stops spinning from an open handed slap to his face, is that he deserves that. And at least this had happened with a stronger man, so there was never any real danger.

He tries to scoot back and off of the other man, but the side of his head hits the mattress before he can make a move, Struggling now, and with a very deep understanding that there is real danger, he goes as far as bite the mans forearm hard, but hes shaken off and the same arm snakes around his neck, and hes face down in a chokehold.

Quinton is accustomed to violence in many senses of the word, but he had never been choked with this sort of intent. When sparring for work or wrestling with Krissa he could always, somehow, get air. Whether it was just a matter of waiting a few seconds for the ref to call, or the hold not being strong enough to actually cut off his air supply. But he’s really choking, he really cannot breathe.

His vision blacks out fully before hes let go, collapsing into a wet pile under his partner, taking short wheezing breaths and trying to ignore exactly how hard that made him.

His partner thankfully unfortunately, does not ignore this, scoffing and in just an oddly mean gesture, flicks the exposed head of his dick. He feels worse about the whining noise he made in response than just about anything else in his life.

“Don’t pull Dahmer shit on men stronger than you, fag.”

and like that, his gentlemen caller calmly gathers his things, pushes over one of Quintons shelves, and just leaves him there.

The front door slamming can be heard from his bedroom, and his first regret, tellingly, is getting quiet instead of begging the guy to come back.