Well. Here we are. The good news is that I DID get it to EXACTLY 777 words, 7 being my lucky number. (Is this whole 'needing to get something to an exact amount of words' deal the sign of some kinda disorder? I hope not.)
The bad news? IT SUCKS. Literally. So I apologize, because I know my little contribution to roundrobin will be far too graphic for the prudes but not nearly graphic enough for the perverts. Yeah. Sorry.
“Watch my tongue?” Jono repeated, shaking his head with a bit of a smirk. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead; one ran off his nose. He made a noise that was halfway between a sigh and grunt before he started to laugh.
“What is so funny?” Seth snapped, mouth curling into an almost-snarl. “What about this situation could you possibly find so amusing? I’m in control, you know...”
The laughter continued, becoming huskier, wearier. “Watch my tongue indeed!”
“I’m in control.” And there was no doubt of that fact in Seth’s voice, although the fact that he needed to vocalize it at all spoke volumes to Jono, who continued to chuckle. But it wasn’t an amused chuckle-- it was the dry, weary chuckle of the man who laughed only to prevent himself from crying, because he simply could not allow the priest the satisfaction of tears.
Maybe it wouldn’t be a satisfaction to him at all. Maybe what he really wants me to do is fight back? Fight against him? Maybe he WANTS someone to defy him...
No. That’s insane. He just wants a reaction from me; that’s got to be it. He wants a reaction.
This chuckling started to come to an end as merely breathing began to require more and more of Jono’s full attention. He was starting to get dizzy... and tired... and he could feel the beads of sweat trickling down his face. One rolled of the end of his nose...
Drip, drip, dip.
Only the pain of his bleeding wrists kept Jono awake.
Drip, drip, dip. Sweat and blood. A lovely combination... or at least, the priest probably thought so, didn’t he? The bastard. The BASTARD. But Jono wouldn’t moan... wouldn’t beg to be let down... would give the priest only enough of a reaction to give him reason to keep Jono alive; nothing more. And nothing else, but especially nothing more.
In the back of his mind, it occurred to Jono that his wrists could break-- if they weren’t broken already? All Jono knew for sure was that he was in pain. All different kinds of pain, both emotional and physical, all meaning something different at one point... now, though, the “different kinds” of pain were blurring together and leaving his system shocked and nearly numb. Jono wasn’t even sure he could differentiate the emotional pain from the physical anymore...
But even the most intense of pains would’ve been more bearable than what the High Priest did next. Saying, “You’re not going to faint until I let you," he knelt on the ground in front of the hanging blond, removing what little clothing still adorned his victim’s body. And then...
Then he gently began to gently stroke Jono’s cock, making the blond grunt and buck against the pleasurable sensation, forcing the priest’s other hand to come around and take a forcible grip on the small of the blond’s back.
Jono strained against the feeling of arousal he was experiencing, but his body betrayed him. The slave almost hated himself then.
If he’s not going to break me by hurting me, Jono decided, he’s not going to break me this way either.
“I told you I was in control,” Seth said, and Jono hated himself for groaning loudly. And then for yipping when Seth’s nails dug into his back.
The priest started to suck.
Jono gritted his teeth and inwardly resolved not to cry out. Not to give in and give Seth the satisfaction of seeing him crack.
Unless... that’s the only way to keep myself alive? Unless the only way he’ll keep me around... if I amuse him enough...
No. There’s got to be some other way. Some better way. Some far, far better way.
“I... hate... yoooouuu...” Jono started to say, climaxing mid-sentence so that ‘you’ became half-groan, half-shriek. “Oohhhh...”
He wondered if Seth would killing him for doing that? He desperately hoped not. But the priest really showed no homicidal desires, at least not yet; the dark-haired young man just started to pull away, spitting the salty fluid on the floor.
“The feeling would be mutual if you were important enough for me to hate,” Seth assured him. “Still... I think you can be suitably entertaining. I think I’ll let you down for now. If only so that you can clean up this mess you made.”
“I... hate... you...”
“So you’ve said,” Seth pronounced dryly as he started to untie Jono’s bonds, reminding the poor slave just how much his wrists hurt.
Jono was dangerously close to tears, but he refused to let the priest claim what little dignity he had left. So he started to laugh again.
That was so bad *dies* If anyone wants me in, I'll be in my room *runs and shuts herself in a closet*
(Lethe Seraph, it's your go.)
The bad news? IT SUCKS. Literally. So I apologize, because I know my little contribution to roundrobin will be far too graphic for the prudes but not nearly graphic enough for the perverts. Yeah. Sorry.
“Watch my tongue?” Jono repeated, shaking his head with a bit of a smirk. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead; one ran off his nose. He made a noise that was halfway between a sigh and grunt before he started to laugh.
“What is so funny?” Seth snapped, mouth curling into an almost-snarl. “What about this situation could you possibly find so amusing? I’m in control, you know...”
The laughter continued, becoming huskier, wearier. “Watch my tongue indeed!”
“I’m in control.” And there was no doubt of that fact in Seth’s voice, although the fact that he needed to vocalize it at all spoke volumes to Jono, who continued to chuckle. But it wasn’t an amused chuckle-- it was the dry, weary chuckle of the man who laughed only to prevent himself from crying, because he simply could not allow the priest the satisfaction of tears.
Maybe it wouldn’t be a satisfaction to him at all. Maybe what he really wants me to do is fight back? Fight against him? Maybe he WANTS someone to defy him...
No. That’s insane. He just wants a reaction from me; that’s got to be it. He wants a reaction.
This chuckling started to come to an end as merely breathing began to require more and more of Jono’s full attention. He was starting to get dizzy... and tired... and he could feel the beads of sweat trickling down his face. One rolled of the end of his nose...
Drip, drip, dip.
Only the pain of his bleeding wrists kept Jono awake.
Drip, drip, dip. Sweat and blood. A lovely combination... or at least, the priest probably thought so, didn’t he? The bastard. The BASTARD. But Jono wouldn’t moan... wouldn’t beg to be let down... would give the priest only enough of a reaction to give him reason to keep Jono alive; nothing more. And nothing else, but especially nothing more.
In the back of his mind, it occurred to Jono that his wrists could break-- if they weren’t broken already? All Jono knew for sure was that he was in pain. All different kinds of pain, both emotional and physical, all meaning something different at one point... now, though, the “different kinds” of pain were blurring together and leaving his system shocked and nearly numb. Jono wasn’t even sure he could differentiate the emotional pain from the physical anymore...
But even the most intense of pains would’ve been more bearable than what the High Priest did next. Saying, “You’re not going to faint until I let you," he knelt on the ground in front of the hanging blond, removing what little clothing still adorned his victim’s body. And then...
Then he gently began to gently stroke Jono’s cock, making the blond grunt and buck against the pleasurable sensation, forcing the priest’s other hand to come around and take a forcible grip on the small of the blond’s back.
Jono strained against the feeling of arousal he was experiencing, but his body betrayed him. The slave almost hated himself then.
If he’s not going to break me by hurting me, Jono decided, he’s not going to break me this way either.
“I told you I was in control,” Seth said, and Jono hated himself for groaning loudly. And then for yipping when Seth’s nails dug into his back.
The priest started to suck.
Jono gritted his teeth and inwardly resolved not to cry out. Not to give in and give Seth the satisfaction of seeing him crack.
Unless... that’s the only way to keep myself alive? Unless the only way he’ll keep me around... if I amuse him enough...
No. There’s got to be some other way. Some better way. Some far, far better way.
“I... hate... yoooouuu...” Jono started to say, climaxing mid-sentence so that ‘you’ became half-groan, half-shriek. “Oohhhh...”
He wondered if Seth would killing him for doing that? He desperately hoped not. But the priest really showed no homicidal desires, at least not yet; the dark-haired young man just started to pull away, spitting the salty fluid on the floor.
“The feeling would be mutual if you were important enough for me to hate,” Seth assured him. “Still... I think you can be suitably entertaining. I think I’ll let you down for now. If only so that you can clean up this mess you made.”
“I... hate... you...”
“So you’ve said,” Seth pronounced dryly as he started to untie Jono’s bonds, reminding the poor slave just how much his wrists hurt.
Jono was dangerously close to tears, but he refused to let the priest claim what little dignity he had left. So he started to laugh again.
That was so bad *dies* If anyone wants me in, I'll be in my room *runs and shuts herself in a closet*
(Lethe Seraph, it's your go.)
no subject
Date: 2004-03-21 09:41 pm (UTC)I dont think it sucks -- you've accomplished two things. One, you've let Jono be molested whilst hanging (XD!! admit it, we all wanted it) and created the mood for the sex that we all know will come some day (soon, we hope). Two, you did it 777 words. XD
I loved your reflection on how he laughs here; it's very true that laughing is sometimes only a subsitution for tears. So, overall, I like it. *thumbs up*
I keep wondering how eventually they'll stop hating each other, though, as creepy as we've all let Seth become and how much Jono hates him, lmao! XD (ever wonder if we've sufficently raped
*rambling* Anyway, I think you did just fine, so be happy! :)
no subject
Date: 2004-03-21 10:27 pm (UTC)Yes. It does suck. XD
Mmm... I like the un-prude-ness. >D
... or perhaps I'm just a perv like that... *shrug* I thought it was hot. >__>
(ever wonder if we've sufficently raped darkmus's plot bunny?)
Oh... not enough, I'm sure. XD
Hmm... I think we'll have to eventually make Seth less of a bastard then they'll stop hating each other. ^^``
I believe some of the creepy-ness is because he's acting/is such a bastard when he tells Atemu how he won't hurt Jou. o__o
Anywhoo.
[/ramble]
no subject
Date: 2004-03-21 10:41 pm (UTC)I agree. XD
Oh... not enough, I'm sure. XD
Oh, that's good. ^^
nice icon. *thumbs up*
no subject
Date: 2004-03-22 09:50 am (UTC)Oooh...
nice icon. *thumbs up*
Agreed in regards to the icon! ^_^ *no comment about raping plot bunnies*
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Date: 2004-03-22 11:29 am (UTC)lmao! is raping plot bunniest beastiality, or just plain weird? ^^;;
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Date: 2004-03-22 11:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-22 12:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-01 05:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-01 05:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-22 09:51 am (UTC)Awww... thanks ^^
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Date: 2004-03-22 11:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-24 02:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 07:47 pm (UTC)