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ashintheairlikesnow · 2 years ago

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I was looking at the words on the ask game and I’ve intrigued myself…. Illecebrous For Antoni? 🙏

Illecebrous: alluring, attractive, enticing

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CW: Implied noncon, noncon touching, creepy whumper, intimate whumper

"It's a wonder, really, that it took so long for someone to snap you up," Mr. Davies mused. Smoke hung thick in the air around him, sweet and heady clove settling like a weight on the ashtray's shoulder, sifting onto his nearly-shaven head like falling snowflakes.

He held the ashtray's thin wrist in one large hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth along the inside where blue-tinged veins seemed to linger just beneath pale skin. A scar or two added texture to the touch, but they were old and healed, and didn't cause pain at all.

Still, the ashtray held perfectly still, silent, eyes down. His eyelashes seemed impossibly long. His collar was cinched a little too tight. Oscar leaned over, pressing the thin, embered end of the cigarette just below the collar's leather edge.

The ashtray shuddered, hissing through his teeth, but he didn't pull away.

"How did anyone ever walk past you and resist? Hm? Boggles the mind." Tears glinted at the corners of those downturned eyes. "Oh, that must ache," Mr. Davies cooed in response to those wet eyes, the trembling lips. "Perhaps you wore too much armor for anyone else to see what I see now. But here you are... laid bare for me."

He nudged the toe of his Italian leather shoes, softly gleaming in yellow lamplight, between the ashtray's legs. Even wearing the soft sweatpants that are all he was ever allowed, the pet shuddered with disgust and ducked his chin even more, shoulders hunching. The fresh burn on his neck was bright red. It must have been throbbing.

Oscar dropped the young man's wrist and sat back, looking at his cigarette, before he snapped his fingers. "Light," He commanded.

The ashtray moved instantly, jerking forwards and grabbing the gold-plated lighter that sat on the side table next to Oscar's leather chair. His hands trembled, but there was a flame soon enough.

He leaned forward, taking a long drag when the flame touched the tip.

The ashtray's eyes - just briefly - met his own.

"You're suffering for what you've done to me," Oscar murmured, exhaling a cloud into the ashtray's face until he can't quite cover up his cough. "And you'll suffer more. But my God, will you look incredible while you do it."

He snapped again, and pointed down, between his own legs. "Mouth, love. I'll want no begging tonight."

There was no protest. Only the slightest hesitation - the look of such despair in those beautiful eyes - and then the ashtray moved forward, shuffling in his knees, hands already working to open Oscar's robe.

As soon as that mouth was wet and warm around him, he leaned over, one hand on the top of the ashtray's head, and pressed the cigarette directly between his pet's shoulder blades.

The light moved over pale skin as every muscle locked. The ashtray's eyes closed tight, tears running down his cheeks, following the sharp cheekbones, making their way down to the line of his jaw.

Oscar groaned, shoving the pet even further until his nose was pressed to Oscar's pelvis and he had to fight to breathe, grinding the cigarette until it all but fell apart in his hands.

The noises the pet made were incredible.

The way his throat worked as he fought not to cry or choke, and yet still did both, was divine.

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celine-song · 10 months ago

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