negromanzia | A Debt and a Gift

The realm of Cocytus was a cold, dark, barren little island in the midst of a river, which made it quite to the taste of the god-thing that owned it and not at all to the taste of anyone else. Cocytus made certain to meet her guest upon the shore, welcoming the senior deity who was not quite her liege.

"Ereuvir," she said, in a voice reminiscent of things that bubbled in the dark depths of caves. Her rags fluttered as she performed a slow bow. The gray, tattered hood that covered her head served also to conceal her face and the elegant, swollen, contorting blisters that her guests found so strangely unpleasant. Cocytus simply could not understand the universe's lack of appreciate for her beauty and wonders. "Welcome. I have such a thing to give you."

A gift that was not quite a gift. Cocytus owed a debt after all, which was not the sort of thing that Cocytus liked, and recently she had come into possession of something else that she did not like. Cocytus liked suicides, and she liked them to be as self-loathing or as depressive as possible. The particular despair that came from those who had turned violence upon themselves was a vintage sweeter than any Cocytus had ever found, and the rest of the gods were happy to let her collect her little tragedies. Except that one of those tragedies, lately, was proving to be such a thorn.

Well enough, then, that Cocytus was expecting a visitor, and one with very different taste. Debt and thorn could be bundled up together and handed over to Ereuvir, and Cocytus could go back to basking in the soothing misery of her precious island.

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Ashley giggles in reply, light and unselfconscious, and nips at Ereuvir's lower lip.

"All these great claims you made about my limits and unraveling me." He doesn't remember what Ereuvir actually said. "Turns out you're a rather sweet kisser." Ashley gives him a wicked and playfully taunting smile, wanting to see if he can spur Ereuvir, and to find out what will result if he does. After all, Ashley has never been satisfied with having things safe.

"Hm," he considers that for a moment, "perhaps I just intend to test the limits of how far you'll let me go before you'll whine for more, rather than beg me to stop. I'm so used to being begged to stop," the last is said almost off-handedly. He pushes some hair out of Ashley's face tenderly, his fingers sliding into the strands gently for a moment before his hand tightens and he tugs, leaving a biting, kissed trail down Ashley's neck, but from a new angle from in the chair,

"What would you like to beg for?" he asks, low and sensual. He's not really expecting a straightforward answer, but he's curious what the answer is going to be all the same.

Ashley takes a moment to think it over, leaning his head into Ereuvir's grip and sighing with pleasure at Ereuvir leaves more marks upon his neck. He doesn't want to risk being mundane by asking for some deviant kink that Ereuvir has found boring for a dozen centuries, and he also doesn't want to ask for something that he could receive from any ordinary, human lover.

"I think begging should be a spontaneous thing, don't you?" he says instead, playful and challenging. He knows that he's toying with a predator, and he's enjoying every moment of it. "You're welcome to make me beg."

Ashley's fingers roam over Ereuvir's body, lightly questing with caresses that are skilled enough that an ordinary lover might miss the methodical aspect of them. He's searching for sensitive spots and ticklish areas, curious as to what will make the marble statue squirm or groan.

"What would you like me to beg for?" he asks, calm and conversational because he's not dodging the question, he's only buying time, and he doesn't mind if Ereuvir notices. He wants to know more about the god of the underworld, and his preferences, and he wants to take a little more time to turn over the real question Ereuvir asked of him--what would he like?

Ereuvir chuckles to that, can tell that Ashley is looking for spots to make him moan or writhe. The truth is, there's little of that for him in the way of spots that are overly sensitive or specific, singular things that make his blood quicken. He does not need to have sex, often goes a very long time without even desiring it. He is not designed to procreate or to need to have sex for it's own sake and so he rarely bothers.

What he is designed for is to try to understand humans, all their intimate, dark desires, how to best plumb the darkness of the soul. And, for humans, there is this need or fear, an almost mystical set of rules and thoughts, nearly a religion around sex and sexuality and so, like all things human, it fascinates him. He does not have any specific places Ashley finds, but he's making low, pleased noises just at the touch of his hands, an easy and interested lover, once he decides that he would like to be one.

"Something you don't think you should want," he answers, and it would be, perhaps, easy to see it as some kind of diversion, himself not answering the question, except there's no denying the tone, covetous, almost a little breathless, his own hands more clinging for a moment, "Something it scares you to ask for." The second is hungrier still, the words spun out against his skin, Ereuvir unable to stop himself from tasting him again a moment later.

Ashley moans into his mouth, fingers sliding straight back into Ereuvir’s silken hair and gripping tight as they kiss.

He licks his lips as the kiss breaks, watching Ereuvir with dark, pleased eyes. “Tough question to answer on the spot,” he says, because he doesn’t know if he can think of a good answer quickly enough, and he has just enough self-preservation to be wary of offering that much so quickly. He’s willing to offer it, but needs to ease himself in.

But as he thinks over what he can offer, an impish smile curves his lips. “Do you have...” His fingers shape it in the air a moment before he has the words. “Anal plug.”

"I wouldn't expect you to, not really," he answers back to the first, "but if you're looking for a trajectory, there it is. I can content myself with much less and consider myself well-satisfied. But you do not seem like the sort who would like to leave me merely contented." He does not add that that is a lot of why he had taken him up on the offer. He does not tumble every pretty thing that does.

"Silicone or glass?" he asks, without a moment's hesitation, "Or did you have some other material in mind?" There's zero hint of shame about it, for all that he seems kind of darkly romantic about everything so far. "And what size?"

Ashley kisses him briefly in reward, pleased that Ereuvir understands that they are in agreement in wanting to push Ashley's boundaries and wanting Ereuvir to be more than merely contented with him. He's likewise pleased with the practicality and negotiation in regards to his request. Shame has always seemed like such an unnecessary thing to Ashley.

"Glass," he decides, and his hands flutter to try to describe the shape in the air. It takes a moment and a couple of tries, but his hands are expressive and he manages to generally decide upon and convey the circumference he wants. He's more immediately precise about the length he wants: Ashley knows exactly where his prostate is. "Maddening, but not a strain," he explains, once he's non-verbally described a medium-sized plug of specific proportions.

"How about if you fuck me," Ashley proposes, "and then afterward you can take me on a tour and we'll see how long it takes me to start begging?"

He lifts his eyebrow in playful challenge to see if Ereuvir will make the connection regarding the middle step in this plan and how the anal plug comes into play.

Ashley's reward for thinking of this game is a low, almost sinister chuckle and another bruise on his neck, left slowly and methodically. Afterwards, Ereuvir pulls away, but it's just to reach into a drawer on the bedside table. There's some kind of lubrication first, in a suitably ornate little container for it's surroundings, something viscous and a little bit warm somehow, with a deep, rich kind of smell to it that never quite settles on one thing but is sensuous all on it's own.

The plug is next. Here, in the heart of his domain, there's almost nothing he can't do, if pressed to do it. Creating something precisely suitable to Ashely's dimensions is practically as easy as drawing a breath. He's never liked the flashiness of creation out of thin air, so the thing he's looking for is just somehow in the drawer already. There is a moment, just a moment, where Ereuvir considers making it some hideous shade of pink or glow-in-the-dark green just for the reaction, but ultimately what he pulls out is made of black glass, the color so deep that it cannot be seen through, save for the fact that when the light catches it, it almost seems to glow from within.

Or perhaps that's not a trick of the light after all.

He places it on the nightstand, in clear view, but otherwise doesn't comment on it, moving back to the center of the bed and rolling Ashley easily up on his knees on top of him. Ashley's slender enough that, if he cooperates by moving up just a little, it's an easy matter to reach around his hip and sink the first finger into him. The prep will be relatively shallow and, for someone who didn't seem to know what they were doing, Ereuvir might be more thorough, but there is something to be said for waiting so the first thing that Ashely will feel in deep will be his cock.

"A tour around the house, or around the kingdom?" he asks, and it's both a genuine question, a bit of a humorous tease, and also another surprising bit of proof that Ereuvir isn't just talk, if he's willing to do something like that.

“Guess it depends on how big your house is,” Ashley replies, eagerly rolling his hips into the touch. He whines a little because it’s shallow and he’s impatient, but he knows better than to start begging before he’s really ready for it.

His eyes flick frequently toward the black glass plug waiting for him. It’s beautiful, and that makes Ashley covetous. He’s never been good at savoring anticipation. It’s his, and he wants it.

But there’s another new toy that is his now, so he reaches down to clasp his hand around Ereuvir’s cock, stroking slowly and learning the heft of it. The size pleases him, generous but not intimidating, and Ashley bites his lip with pleasure, watching Ereuvir with dark, lustful eyes.

Ereuvir can't help but smirk a little every time Ashley's attention is diverted by the glass, pleased that he clearly likes it. Here, too, he is perhaps more patient than a human lover would be. He's hardly threatened by the obvious interest in the toy over him. In fact, if Ashley had wanted to just have the toy, he would have given it gladly. But he's stated an intent, and Ereuvir has every intention of giving him what he's asked for. He doesn't usually like spoiled lovers but he does like spoiling them.

For someone who has seemed perhaps a bit indifferent to the actual physical act of sex so far, Ereuvir reacts quite well to having his cock stroked, eyes going half-lidded immediately and murmuring out a low noise of pleasure, hips moving just slightly to help with the motion. He adds another finger in reward, slow but steady. He's quite capable of just doing something like this for a long time, toying with a lover slowly until they can't take it any more. But, again, there's a request on the table and he wants to reward that, so he's perhaps a little more clinical than he might otherwise be, the fingers a means to an end.

Not that he's not still teasing just a bit. They both know it will be worth it in a minute, but right now his fingers are probably starting to feel frustratingly shallow, the more he works Ashley open.

Ashley likes being teased, but that’s certainly not about to stop him whining about it. He whimpers plaintively, nuzzling at Ereuvir’s chest and distractedly kissing Ereuvir’s nipple. He rocks his hips back desperately, instinctively trying to get those fingers deeper, even though he knows Ereuvir is keeping it shallow on purpose.

“Fuck me,” he begs at last, whining and nipping at Ereuvir’s throat between pleas. “Please fuck me.”

"Of course," there's something overly warm about the tone, indulgent, a bit of a hint already of what kind of lover Ereuvir is. One of his favorite games is getting people to ask for something and then giving it to them. It isn't as though this one was a hard one, but there's pleasure in it all the same.

He could tease. He lets Ashley feel that he could tease, gives one more lazy not-quite-deep-enough push of his fingers, just to let him think for a moment that he might but, ultimately, he wants the same thing his "guest" wants and there's little reason to delay.

He does get a bit more of the viscous substance on his cock before he does and Ashley's got leverage on his side if it's a bit too much, but given that Ashley's seemed to know what he was doing and he can move freely, Ereuvir has little problem with pushing in all in one, firm push, pulling Ashley down by the hips a little as he does.

Afterwards, he holds still, letting Ashley determine when they keep going, but also just letting him feel him. There's an almost vicious little grin on his face, better sign of him enjoying himself than any dirty talk or lover's moaning.

Ashley cries out as Ereuvir slides deep and inexorable inside him. Arching up smoothly, he tightens his thighs on either side of Ereuvir's hips, holding him there and discouraging him from moving as Ashley flushes and pants, adjusting to being filled so suddenly.

Shivering with the intensity of the sensation, Ashley splays one hand across Ereuvir's chest, fingers framing one of the nipples. Whimpers and keens bubble from his throat, but they're more updates than anything else: intensity, pleasure. He's already half overwhelmed, but doesn't want to stop until he's well past that.

After a minute, he takes a gulping breath and relaxes his thighs. He's still coping with the sensation too much to be able to coordinate his own movements just yet, but he's willing to let Ereuvir move, if he wants.

They literally have all the time in the world, as far as Ereuvir is concerned. There's no reason to hurry, and so he doesn't, holds himself still while Ashley works through the sensations. He pets his hands over those tense thighs, fingers kneading into the muscles there for a moment before he shifts to running them up Ashley's sides. He strokes him like that, soothingly, until he can feel his muscles start to relax.

Even then, the first bit of motion is small, a drag out and a push in done entirely with his hips. The motion is very slight, has to be from the position they're in, but it's enough for Ashley to feel it, certainly. If there's no protest to that, his hands slide back down to Ashley's hips and the next one he lifts him up just a bit, pulls him down.

"Good?" Perhaps he's fishing just a bit for something like the way he'd begged to be fucked to begin with, but he's also genuinely checking in.

Ashley gives him a grin in response, even though he's still flushed and shaky. "Good," he says, starting to rock his hips into Ereuvir's touches, encouraging the way Ereuvir lifts him. Ashley loves having partners who can lift him, and he starts rising up and dropping down a little quicker, letting Ereuvir's strength help him while Ashley sets the pace.

He likes it just a little bit punishing, so that he gasps and whimpers with every thrust, nails digging into Ereuvir's skin and body undulating to get the best angle, the best friction. "Ah," he moans, entirely focused on his own pleasure and the satisfaction of having Ereuvir beneath him. "Yes, please."

There are few things Ereuvir enjoys more in the bedroom than seeing someone caught up in their own pleasure, either in relentless pursuit or entirely unable to stop themselves. Ashley seems a bit of both, demanding just that slightest bit more than he can really handle and then reveling in it. It has Ereuvir gripping harder at his hips and growling out his pleasure just a bit, meeting him fiercely, noises deepening into low moans whenever Ashley manages to move just right to where things are deep and grinding at the same time.

He lets him set the pace for a time, enough to be sure that he's used to it, but the way Ashley's being rougher about this, the way he pleads, soon has him rolling them over in the bed, so he can hike one of those slender legs up around a hip or, if Ashley's flexible enough, a shoulder, and thrust in deeper, picking up the pace a bit more now that he can move.

Ashley yelps with delight as Ereuvir flips him over. He is very flexible, and as Ereuvir thrusts in harder, deeper into him at this angle, Ashley lifts his lower body into it, meeting the thrusts and impaling himself on Ereuvir's length. His fingers clutch and grasp at the covers, and when his orgasm approaches he doesn't hesitate in letting himself tip over that precipice.

Crying out loudly, Ashley rides the waves of it, giving himself over completely to Ereuvir's control and relishing the onslaught of pleasure.

Ereuvir is a very attentive lover and he slows, suddenly, hadn't missed the reaction in the sitting room earlier, the way Ashley had whined and writhed when he'd kept toying with his cock after he came. So while things are still over-sensitive, he drags himself slowly in and out, pinning Ashley's hips to the bed to keep him from squirming away. A sharper, more serious protest might actually stop him, but complaints will certainly not, and if Ashley can't help himself, he'll pin his wrists to the bed, too, to take more time to tease him.

He waits until the aftershocks subside completely before he speeds again, this time moving with more self-interested purpose, rough without quite tipping into brutal, but clearly in pursuit of a goal.

He is quiet, when he comes, but the low moan he makes sounds like it's deep enough to come from the soul, a consuming sort of pleasure.

It's all just how Ashley likes it, and he whines and sighs as Ereuvir fucks him through his orgasm, drawing out aftershock upon aftershock until Ashley's trembling and weak from overstimulation and pleasure. And yet he still wants more, and laughs with breathless delight and a hint of challenge as Ereuvir begins again, quicker and rougher, pounding into him.

Ashley purrs with satisfaction as Ereuvir comes within him. Satisfied and expecting that Ereuvir will rest for at least a couple of minutes, Ashley wiggles beneath him, hooking his legs around Ereuvir to keep him there and looping his arms around Ereuvir's neck to pull him down to cuddle.

He chuckles softly at the octopus tendencies he's found in his lover and while he might not need the kind of rest a human man might need after something like that, he's content to cuddle up, still inside of Ashley, and just press warm kisses to heated skin, hands trailing along him.

There is, however, a matter to attend to with the plug and he finally shifts slightly, petting a hand soothingly down Ashley's side,

"Do you want a moment to clean up, or do you want it in you right now?" He's not going to make Ashley walk around full of his come, but with how possessive he's been so far, it's a good bet on what his preference is, even though he sounds like he's equally happy with both options.

"Right now," Ashley demands, because that was always an assumed part of the game, and he wants Ereuvir to be tempted and tormented, also, knowing that Ashley's walking around with Ereuvir's come inside of him.

Reluctantly, he detangles his arms and legs from around Ereuvir, allowing him to pull out and to fetch the plug. He doesn't like letting go, even though he wants the game that he proposed. Watching Ereuvir closely, Ashley licks his lower lip, a tiny bit of shyness showing through now.

Ereuvir chuckles a little at that, but it's warm, genuinely pleased, before he rolls over to get the plug. It's so smooth it likely doesn't need any additional lube, but he uses some more anyway, which actually is going to make it take a little bit of effort to hold inside once Ashley's upright.

Ereuvir doesn't notice the shyness, really, has no reason to think Ashley might even be capable of it, at this point, but he also doesn't seem to be going anywhere or calling a halt to their bedroom games. He takes his time, even, working the plug in, even though it would likely have just gone in without much effort at this point. He likes turning Ashely halfway to liquid in his arms, so there's little reason to not take his time and enjoy it and Ashley's reaction to it.

Once it's fully seated, Ereuvir draws him back close.

"What kind of clothes would you prefer? Something comfortable? Modern? I can provide you with attire from whatever is on the current runways to something more traditional for a cupbearer," it's clear the term is one that amuses him, but if Ashley is at all aware of it, there's significance in him using it that bears well for Ashley.

"Surprise me," Ashley demands, with a cheerful glint of challenge in his eyes. "Anything you like, as long as it's flattering. Easy access might be a good idea, too."

Ashley's very interested to find out what Ereuvir will choose, and willing to take a risk with it. If it's too contrary to Ashley's self-image, well, that's a kind of unflattering and Ashley's willing to argue the point. But the pleasure of being given something more wondrous than he would know to choose for himself is well worth trying for.

Well-read though Ashley is, he doesn't get the reference. His education is eclectic, having been left mostly to Arkady, since Ashley rebelled against his tutors and only studied the subjects he (or Arkady) found interesting. His knowledge of gothic and romantic literature is extensive, and he has an impressive comprehension of art, anatomy, and medicine, but the gaps in his knowledge are immense.

He pets his fingers admiringly over Ereuvir's chest, very content to be held close and cuddled.

"I think I have just the thing."

Ereuvir seems content for just a moment to work another bruise into Ashley's neck and let him get more used to the plug, both of them still curled close and warm in bed. After a minute or two, though, he does stir and rises from the bed to get dressed. He re-dresses in simple but well-tailored modern clothing in blacks and blues, but Ashley's given long robe that drags on the floor slightly in the back, cut to fall just barely above the tops of his feet in the front. It's made of some kind of heavy silk that has weight and feels amazing on the skin and is black as well, worked with blue butterflies that start lightly added, a single one perched in the black near his shoulder, but turn into a riot of them at the bottom, drowning out the black. The garment is modest, leaves almost no skin aside from his face and hands exposed, but as he puts it on, he quickly discovers that, partially because of the weight and partially because of how it's constructed, a single tug to the right places on it will cause it to simply fall off the wearer. In fact, it takes a bit of work to figure out how to keep the entire thing on to begin with, and he'll often find it trying to creep off his shoulders, gravity trying to disrobe him.

Ereuvir gives him nothing to wear under it, which is likely unsurprising. He looks almost plain next to Ashely, in black slacks and a deep blue shirt, but he still manages to cut an impressive figure all the same.

"Ready for your tour, then?" the wicked gleam to his eyes shows that he hasn't forgotten the game they're playing.

Ashley's a little disdainful of the garment, because it seems to him like a dress. Though Ashley's personality consists of a variety of traditionally feminine behaviors, he still tends to guard his masculinity fiercely. He likes pretty and lacy garments, but always within the bounds of men's clothing. This pushes at that boundary, but doesn't push it hard enough to make Ashley balk.

He puts on the robe, smoothing it down and tugging at the collar, figuring out how to move in it. It isn't at all what he had in mind, but that was part of the point of his challenge. He never would have asked for this, and the novelty is interesting.

Going to Ereuvir's side, Ashley takes his arm. He has to keep his legs close together as he walks, and he's careful to take small steps. Each step rubs the tip of the plug against his prostate, which is already swollen from the thorough fucking. Ashley's cheeks are flushed by the time they cross the room, but he keeps his chin high. He won't yield until he's ready to beg. That's the game, after all.

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The King and the Matched Set

October 2018

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