anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

...I wouldn't know.

[ Not a boast, or meant to incite, but the honest truth. It's not something he thinks on, not something he knows to expect or when to expect. And there's a faint note of disappointment there...that his answer isn't so easy as Taylor's had been. That it isn't something as readily delivered on. ]

S'okay.

[ He drops a kiss that would be positively chaste almost anywhere else against Locus' tailbone, hand around his balls giving a short, sharp tug. ]

I have a few ideas if you don't mind me bringing some tools into play here. Otherwise it's nails and teeth all over.

[ The noise he makes is like a gut punch, the air rushing out of him as his nails turn into the cot, and a shudder runs the length of his body as that spike of pained pleasure surges upward.

When he gets his breath back again, he simply nods. He trusts him to do as he will. ]

Sit tight.

[ He gives Locus' balls a quick squeeze before releasing them, slipping away to one of the side compartments. Lube, rags to clean up- ah, there they are. He returns with a rattle of plastic, tiny little pincers that he sets up on the mattress near Locus' knee. ]

These are gonna sting like a sonovabitch but I think you'll like them.

[ Locus lifts his head to watch as Taylor makes his way across the shuttle, taking the moment to breathe deeply, to relax. On his return, Locus merely arches an eyebrow, shifting slight to sit back onto his heels. ]

You've given this some thought.

More than a little, yeah.

[ His mind does tend to wander. Taylor plucks up one of the clamps- small, toothy things that they are, and presses it into Locus' hand as he settles against his back. ]

They got a pretty tight grip. More intense than I'd like to use on myself- I'm more for sustained, thudding kinda pain, but this should work for you.

And...they're meant for...

[ The idea of bringing things into this is new. Before, sometimes you'd used what was nearby, but it wasn't this planned out. But Taylor plans, he plots, he prepares. He installs bars in the shower and leaves lubricant and towels in the shuttle and buys clamps -- the same, he thinks, that he saw in his bedside dresser the first time he was in his room, come to think of it. ]

Skin.

[ He drags his fingers up the inside of Locus' thigh, pinching skin with his fingers before picking up a clamp. He holds it open, chin tucked against Locus' shoulder, waiting. ]

Say when.

[ Oh. Well.

He's collected some idea of what's going to happen here, lowering the clamp back down to rest beside his elbow before nodding, once. Alright. Whatever he's going to do, he's got his permission to go ahead with it.

Already his brain is trying to anticipate the feel of it, to steel himself. ]

[ They aren't sharp enough to cut into skin, not really- but the tight clasp and points to the edges dig in enough to make it feel like that's what's going on. Taylor catches that skin between the teeth of the clamp and releases slowly, letting it sink in, pinch, and stay.

Not the tightest he's ever seen, but pretty damn close. ]

How is it?

[ The sharpness is immediate, unrelenting. He's been stabbed before, cut, he knows what it feels like, knows this isn't that, but the sharp spike is the same, and he can feel the warmth of blood rushing up under the skin as he grunts, strained.

There's a heady rush to accompany the pain, and it's hard to say which is stronger at this point. ]

[ He gives Locus all of half a second before swapping sides, going for symmetry. Another pinch, another clamp- this one closing quicker than the first. ]

These are gonna bruise like you wouldn't believe. Also?

[ He skims his fingers a few inches higher, closer to Locus' groin. ]

They usually hurt more coming off.

Edited 2016-08-27 06:31 (UTC)

[ Hard to believe. They hurt plenty now, digging in with their sharp little teeth, every one of them seemingly felt as he swallows down a thin noise and lowers his head to his arms once more.

If Taylor wants him to scream, it might be a close thing. Normally he has enough presence of mind to stop himself, enough focus, but not making noise with those digging into the soft skin of his thighs is taking nearly all of it as it is.

Talking is certainly out of the question. ]

[ Another three on each side, slowly working the line of clamps up the inside of Locus' thigh until they're just shy of far more sensitive skin- he remembers the reaction to his nipping Locus' balls. Not what he liked. But Taylor does curl his fingers around his balls to take that same yanking grip he enjoyed half so much, the other flicking open a container of lube one handed. ]

Slow breaths, man. Deep breathes.

[ His slick finger slowly circles Locus' rim, tip barely dipping inside. ]

[ It's a lot to try and process, all at once. But never once does he balk. The needle-sharp teeth have most of his attention, so much so that the grab to his balls earns a sharp noise, louder than he normally made, startled and breathless.

And then Taylor returned his attention to his hole, and Locus' back bows, and something gut-deep and needy wrenches itself free. It's good, soft and slow and slick, a stark contrast to the grip on him or the sharp burning along the inside of his thighs. Still, words won't form. They start, but they slip away all too easily. ]

[ Closer, but not quite there. Still Taylor doesn't mind moving is hand with the next clamp up, pinching right on the crease between thigh and groin before placing it there. It's no longer a gradual thing, setting the clamps. No slow bite. Just a sudden snap and sting while Taylor works his finger in slow.

While he plucks up another clamp and lets his hand slide up to Locus' nipple, fingers pinching in question. ]

[ Something in his brain whites out with that clip pinching the inner crease of his thigh, and a louder, rougher noise barks free as his back arches, uncertain whether to bend away or into the sensation.

Taylor can likely feel the way he seizes around him, and at first, the pinch to his nipple is so tame in comparison he barely seems to notice. But he doesn't say no, either.

It's a rush, something that starting to swell to overwhelming, despite his best efforts to remain grounded, rooted. ]

[ It's quick. A twist of his wrist to move from fingers to the clamp, teeth setting in at the base of his nipple and pinching harshly while Taylor's finger inside curls in deep, pressing up against Locus' prostate.

Playing him like a lock but- goddamn no lock has ever sounded this good, has ever gotten him this hard, this fast. The way he locks up around him, how he can't choose where to lean? ]

Jesus...

[ His thighs are shaking. It's subtle, but still noticable, the faint tremor as the next noise comes easier, unhindered, hitched and near-pained until York presses deep and curls tight.

He doesn't even recognize the cry that escapes as his own. So he doesn't think of stopping it. Doesn't think of anything but the bite of those teeth and the rush of heat like an electric current up his spine, and yes. He's definitely hard right now. ]

York...

[ The name comes out slurred, a slip. Wrong name, sort of, not what he wants but what's there in the forefront of his mind to be grasped. ]

I'm right here.

[ Like he could be anywhere else but knuckle deep and tense against Locus' back, watching every tremor and clench, soaking in every breathless sound. Note to self: Clamps? A+. ]

Think you can take three more?

[ Again, he palms a clamp, rolls the unadorned nipple between his fingers to get it firm and ready for pinching. Three more with his fingers slick and pressing in two at a time, rocking up against his prostate to make all this stinging pain good ]

[ It's already good. It cuts deep, touches like raw nerves, and when York sinks deep inside it's just tying all those nerves together, linking that sense of too-much until it makes sense, feels right, feels like the only possible answer to a question he'd long since forgotten.

What would get him to beg? To scream?

He isn't still, rocking slightly on his knees as though trying to push back onto his fingers, to draw him in deeper. He just needs to feel more, nothing else is coming through and he feels so...

There's a freedom to this. There's no hesitation, no restraint, no worry. Just pursuit of this, and York there at his side to push him further. To give him what he needs. ]

[ Taylor takes that as a yes, going ahead with the second clamp on Locus' nipple. From here he can't see his face- but the sounds he makes, the subtle rocking of his body, the clasp of him around his fingers? He can read the gist of how he's feeling. What is just enough and what's too much. Getting to too much (in the right way) takes a little work but-

He figures they're halfway there. ]

Look at you...

[ That same warm adoration, that same warm curling sense of possession tangles in his chest as he flicks and snaps the next clamp into place on Locus' other nipple, fingers grinding hard against his prostate at the same time. The other two... His hand slips low, palming over the head of Locus' cock, following the vein down the underside to the base where he squeezes- and pinches the skin there. ]

[ What happens is a sound like a wounded animal, though Locus is elsewhere. Things have stretched out and gone fuzzy, like he's outside of himself, save for these sharp, sheer sensations shooting through him to remind him of how very real it all is. Maybe the only thing that is real, in that moment.

The pinch of the clamps, the blade-like sharpness of those teeth, tied together with the burst of warmth and the rolling softness of Taylor's voice...he's not sure where to turn. What to focus on. His fingers dig into the cot as he pants, and he's uncertain now how much longer he can hold himself on his knees like this. ]

Nnn....

I got you.

[ Low, murmured gently into the sweat slick skin of Locus' shoulder as he rocks his fingers in deep. Something to keep Locus drifting, keep him flying while he slots himself neatly against his back, cock dragging against sweat slick skin and sandwiching between them. Nowhere near ready, his body too tight to give- but an idea is forming. ]

Sit back on your heels and lean against me.

[ Taylor loops an arm around Locus' waist to help, taking the bulk of his weight once he's settled won't be easy but- he deserves to drift- and it'll give him room to get that second to last clamp on right where he wants without having to worry about Locus' legs giving out. ]

[ Slowly, the heel of his palms digs into the cot, pushing himself upright and back, enough to feel the weight and warmth of York's frame behind him. There's no point of focus now, just feeling whatever fades in. It burns, stings, it pinches and throbs, and then those fingers will push deep and send it all fracturing apart again.

His jaw has gone slightly slack as he pants, fingers still lingering at the edge of the cot, ready to curl down tight again. Whatever comes, he knows it's going to be good, in one form or another. ]

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