rockabillyboy | (no subject)

Jack picks up the lube, slicking his fingers and then reaching between Poison's thighs, teasing his fingertips over his hole, not quite pushing inside. "You don't close your legs tonight until I tell you you can. You're a toy. You're supposed to be available to me."

"Yes daddy," he whispers, a moan on the edge of his voice as Jack's fingers tease against him. He keeps his legs spread, lewd and perfect and just for him. "I'll be good for you.'

A shiver goes through Jack at the way Poison says that. He squeezes Poison's thigh, starting to ease his fingers inside him.

"Who's pleasure is tonight about, baby?"

"Yours," he gasps as Jack's fingers push in. He arches, fingers curling tight around the silk ropes for support. "I'm your toy, here for you to play with until you're done."

Jack rocks his hand, fucking Poison with two fingers, smoothly adding a third, working him open enough to take the plug without it hurting too much, the wrong way. He smooths his free hand up over the soft skin of Poison's belly, knowing that he likes a little pressure, the feeling of being held down.

Poison bites his lip as Jack presses down on him, pinning him as a third finger pushes in. He squirms, trying to roll his hips to meet every thrust of Jack's hand, working against the pressure low on his stomach. It's perfect.

"Remember how you had me all night?" asks Jack, twisting his wrist to work his fingers deeper. "Remember how you kept me trussed up and plugged and on the edge all..night...long...?"

Poison cries out softly, because between Jack's fingers and the way he's talking to him, he already feels dizzy. "Y-yes," he gasps as his hips stutter, trying to ride Jack's fingers. "I remember."

"Yes what?" asks Jack, dragging his fingers all of the way out of Poison abruptly, slapping his thigh instead. "Your manners are pretty freaking shocking, man."

"Ah. Yes daddy," he gasps out, jumping when Jack hits his thigh. The sudden emptiness his awful and he tries to stay still, keeps his thighs spread, inviting.

His blush is still deep when he opens his eyes, looks at Jack through a fall of red hair. "I've never been much of a good boy."

"Maybe we need to get you to work on your manners, then," says Jack, picking up the plug and turning it in his fingers, ignoring the spread of Poison's legs and the tremble of his thighs. "Open up, baby. you're going to want to get this nice and wet."

Poison makes another soft sound when Jack picks up the plug. He opens his mouth as he's told to and as soon as the plug is close enough he licks it, catches it between his lips to get it good and slick. He bobs his head, treating it like it's a cock.

It's beautiful, the way Poison sucks on the plug like that, the way he bobs his head. Jack presses the plug all the way past his lips and just lets it sit there. He takes in the way Poison looks, heels and stockings, spread legs, bound wrists, the plug pressed between his lips.

"I think I need a photo of you right there like that."

Poison hums an affirmative sound around the plug since he can't - won't - take it from his mouth. He holds it when Jack lets go, not moving an inch. If Jack wants pictures, he wants to look good - debauched - in them.

Jack gets up off the bed and grabs his phone, one knee hitting the mattress while he frames a shot of Poison sprawled in the bed like that, lewd and debauched.

"Do you want that in your ass, baby? Do you want to be good?"

Poison can hear the shutter click of the camera. He hums around the toy, nods a little. He doesn't want to let it go and risk not getting anything at all.

"You look beautiful," says Jack, genuinely, softly as he leans over Poison and tugs the plug out of his Poison's mouth with an audible pop. "Do you wish it was something bigger?"

"Your cock," he whispers. "I always want your cock, daddy." His lips are soft, wet from the work he's done on the plug. Poison watches him, dazed and eager.

"You don't get my cock yet," says Jack, slipping the plug down between Poison's spread thighs, pressing the tapered point against his hole. "Squirm for me, baby."

Poison rocks his hips toward the toy, trying to get it inside him. "Fuck," he whimpers, squirming closer to Jack. "Please, please."

Slowly, taking his time, Jack eases the plug into Poison's ass until it's pressed snuggly inside him. Once that's done, Jack leans up and unties Poison's hands.

"Now I want you to go into the bathroom and freshen up your face, baby. Make yourself really pretty for me."

Poison makes a soft, weak sound as the plug sinks into place. He wets his lips, stretches his fingers as his hands are set free. "Okay. How-- what sort of look do you want?" he asks as he carefully gets up. "Red lips?"

"Surprise me," says Jack, affecting that chilly, disinterested tone that he learned from his father. It's all part of the game. "I'm sure you know how to make yourself look suitably slutty."

Poison smirks a bit, rolls his eyes as he slides off the bed. "Yes sir," he coos. He wanders into the bathroom, finds his make up. He leans on the counter as he works. He chooses a staining balm for his lips, layers it with lipstick to make sure the color pops - and in case Jack wants to make a mess of him by smearing it. He takes care of his eyes, too, doing his best to pull off something sultry.

When he feels he's done something suitably slutty, he comes back out of the bathroom.

Poison makes a perfect slut standing there in his high, high heels, his stockings, a face full of make-up, black rubber pressed between his ass cheeks and the delicate chain against his chest.

"How do you feel?"