cook_the_rude | OOM: Curious about Sin

Sinric nods and obeys, making himself comfortable on the couch as his frantic heart and hurried breathing slows bit by bit.

No matter how often Athelstan and Ragnar give him this pleasure, he has still by no means become accustomed to the feeling. Too intense, too surreal and too overwhelming. It takes him quite some time to come back to himself fully, feeling a gnawing guilt that he has done nothing to offer the doctor pleasure in return, failing in what he sees as his duty.

The doctor is sitting on the floor, on his haunches, almost formally; his maroon eyes are on Sinric, and he is running a finger along the length of Sinric's limbs and body, touching both breasts and genitals again, as if to observe how they return to their resting state.

The little touches makes him shudder softly, his body still highly sensitized. "Sir?" He asks, his voice a little rough. "Is there some pleasure I may offer you?"

"No, it's fine," the doctor says. "I feel privileged for having not only witnessed this, but brought it about. You don't have to do anythings; just relax. If you want something, say so, and you'll have it."

Sinric blushes again, biting his lip to find the words to express his desire. "I would like very much to pleasure you, sir. With my mouth or my body, whichever you would prefer?"

"What do you like about pleasuring a man?" the doctor asks, tilting his head at Sinric.

"There is accomplishment is bringing pleasure, in finding ways to please and heighten the experience beyond the rutting passion most men are accustomed to." He dips his eye lashes. "I have no doubt you are far more experienced than that, sir."

"And there are times I take pleasure in being taken, by someone I trust. It has been harder since-" he cuts himself off. There are many thing that have been harder since the attack.

"Since you were attacked," the doctor nods, "when I helped to clean you up. You might still have some post-traumatic reactions about it, which is only to be expected."

"There are things I... find harder than I did before. I try not to, around my emperor especially."

He smiles softly to the doctor. "I am very grateful, for what you did for me. I only wish there was some way I could thank you for that."

"You already have," the doctor says. "I know more about castrati than any other person alive in my time, and have made music with one of them."

Pause.

"What are the worst of your triggers -- that is, the things that send you back to your attack most easily? Being penetrated from behind, and what else?"

"I have practiced the music you taught me. And that of the recordings you recommended. I cannot be sure my so gs are perfect to the originals for without them to refer back to for two years, I have only what sounds right to my own ears to guide me. I am eager, while the door is still opened to me, to learn as much as I can. If you are willing to teach me?"

The question about his triggers sobers him from his excitement about music.

"There are several things I find I can no longer endure without fear - to have my arms or shoulders held down during pleasure, to have my throat touches or gripped in any way. To be have those I do not trust utterly at my back, even just to stand. Naked blades anywhere near me." He shudders deeply. His fear of knives has faded less than any.

"I might be able to help you face those," the doctor says. "Whichever you find most intimidating and limiting in your daily life."

Pause.

"And of course I would love to make music with you again."

"To have someone behind me." He answers immediately. "Even in court, I find myself backing against walls and placing myself where no-one can stand behind me. It grows less so with drink so at parties I can make myself forget a little but there are other times it becomes very hard not to feel panic rise in me."

"Castor, my Emperor's first guard has noticed. He is a good man and one I trust deeply. He slew the man who cut me." He gestures to his back and the faint scar that now sits in place of the gash the doctor stitched. "If he sees that I am uncomfortable, he places himself behind me. He is broad and tall and not unlike a wall himself." A care Sinric is very grateful for.

"You can't have him there all the time," the doctor says, "and it's an exploitable weakness. I can help you work on the issue, if you like?"

"Sir, I am indebted to you so deeply already but I would very much value your help." He answers with raw and open honesty.

"Then you can have it," the doctor says. "Perhaps not right now, while you're still recovering from your pleasure. Would you like something to eat or drink to help revive you?"

"Thank you. I-" he cuts himself off and lowers his eyes. "Forgive my boldness, sir, but I should very much like to see you, if I may?" He asks softly, half expecting to be told no.

The doctor smiles, and stands.

It becomes evident that providing pleasure to Sinric hasn't failed to impress him physically: from a gap that opens in the middle of his loosely knotted robe as he stands up, the bared and slightly glistening head of his erect penis peeks out.

Rather than pull it close and go about his business, the doctor unties the belt and sheds the robe, standing naked at parade rest to Sinric's scrutiny.

Sinric moves to his knees, taking his time to admire the doctor's toned body, taking him all in. His hardness has by no means escaped Sinric's attention and his eyes are drawn to it by the slopes of Hannibal's pelvis.

"May I touch you, sir?"

The doctor comes a step closer and nods.

Sinric remains in his kneeling position on the couch. He brushes soft fingertips over the doctor's sides, up the crest of his chest, down the centre line of his abs. His touches are light, gentle, exploratory; watching Hannibal's expression before becoming bolder.

Hannibal stands before him, taking another deep breath as he is being touched, but keeping very still.

His erection fills out a little more.

"Tell me if you want me to move," he says.

"Tell me how you would like me to touch?" Sinric answers with a slightly cheeky smile as he leans in to kiss the tip of Hannibal's erection.

"That is a very good approach to take already," Hannibal says, a little breathless chuckle in his breath.

Sinric smiles and touches his tongue to the doctor's slit, teasing it softly and his hands move down to Hannibal's hips.

Looking up at the doctor's through long lashes as he slowly takes the head of Hannibal's cock between his lips.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject