ph_logs | sticks and stones may break my bones (OTA 18+)

sticks and stones may break my bones (OTA 18+)

Who: George Elsworth (

stonecoldtop) & anyone 18+
What: George's birthday and pumpkin hollow's first kink party
When: evening of 22nd December
Where: VAS
Warning(s): NSFW with a focus on kink, more specifics on individual prompts

Invitation and venue
A flier goes up on the community noticeboard a week in advance, advertising an adults only party for George's birthday, with more specifics to be found at VAS. The specifics being that it's a kink play party. An opportunity meet and play with like minded individuals in a semi-public environment.

On the night, there's various toys and furniture for use placed in key spots, with cleaning supplies nearby. A variety of snacks both sweet and savoury are laid out on tables by couches, and one room has been designated the 'quiet room' and has lots of cushions and soft blankets in it.

Welcome
George greets most people as they arrive, with another of VAS's staff taking over if he's otherwise occupied. He'll take newcomers on a brief tour of the space, pointing out anything of note and giving a rundown of the rules: Be respectful, use safewords, clean up after yourselves, and any questions or concerns should be brought to George himself or another member of staff, each of which is pointed out.

Once the tour is concluded, he smiles warmly adding, "And of course, please enjoy yourself. Do you have any questions?"

Birthday Beatings

(impact play and masochism)

This is the main event for George, and a tradition he's held for a good five years or so. An excuse to test his endurance and enjoy the bite of pain with each strike to his stone skin.

Typically, the arrangement is one strike per year of age, but only two people on the island actually know how old George is and he intends to keep it that way, so instead the rules are simply: Each person can hit him a maximum of 20 times, and it will continue until either everyone who wants to has had a turn or George taps out, with short breaks as necessary.

Those who were personally invited get priority, and after that anyone is welcome to have a go at him. There's a choice of implements available for use, or someone can use their own if they'd prefer, or even go without simply use their hands (though George doesn't recommend this, and the closest to an explanation he'll give is that he has "surprisingly hard skin"), and he's willing to be repositioned as desired.

(Note: this can be threaded or handwaved as desired. I'm open to both playing out the scene itself and the breaks and aftercare. If you want to handwave that a character took a turn without playing anything surrounding it, just let me know so I can keep track.)

Get Kinky
This is a mingle, get freaky with it. Just be sure to use additional warnings as necessary

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

John nods again, shifting a little in his seat—and that does involve spreading his legs a little thanks to the fact that he’s getting hard. When Siebren asks him to do just that, he moves his legs further apart.

It’s not…indecent, but there’s something about sitting this way, hands on the seat on either side of him that makes him feel…

…sexy. Indecent has too negative a connotation, and this feels good. Really good.

Yeah—he feels sexy, and his next breath comes with a slight, but audible shake to it.

Siebren lays a hand flat on John's chest, and suddenly, he feels heavy, so very heavy. It's a little like when you're on a roller coaster, going down the hill and pressed into your seat, pulling multiple Gs.

No, it's exactly like that.

"How's that feel now?"

Whoah.

The rush of pressure that comes with the touch of Siebren’s hand is startling, but not scary. He’s felt the opposite, his power lifting him free of the earth, this is just the opposite.

He tests it, trying to lift his arms—no dice. They’re more weight than he can manage. There’s a flicker of fear, but when he takes a deep breath, it’s not impossible. He feels the pressure, but not suffocated.

I can’t move. He won’t let me move.

John opens his eyes (when did he close them?…) and can’t help but smile a little without really knowing why.

“Can’t move.” He replies softly. Thinking it is one thing but saying it out loud?

He’s…not afraid. He should be afraid, shouldn’t he?…

And Siebren moves quickly now, one shin coming up onto the couch right between John's legs, knee pressed gently against his groin.

"That's right, you can't move. You're under my control right now. Like a little toy soldier."

That hand moves from John's chest to card through his hair slowly.

John’s breath catches a Siebren moves, quick as a cat—and even if he wasn’t pressing his knee against John’s raging hard on he’d be tense and gasping with arousal because that is unfairly hot. He is absolutely teasing John, however, and he jerks against the impossible weight of his own skin trying to rock against that gentle pressure—

—like a little toy soldier—

—Dahlia’s toy soldiers.

The same terrible swell of feeling starts to rise up at those words again, but Neil’s voice is deadened in his head by Siebren’s fingers in his hair. John remembers that horrible feeling of wondering why he thought he could reach for good things to keep like his family and his partners…

But one of those partners is literally, physically holding him down. John’s head feels suddenly heavy as he lets it list into Siebren’s touch…because Siebren has control of him. He belongs to Siebren right now and no part of him ever belonged to…Neil.

For a second he can’t even remember the man’s name, and it’s so liberating he forgets he can’t move and tries to rock against Siebren’s knee again.

And when he can’t, it actually feels good…it feels so good he moans and tries to turn his head to nuzzle Siebren’s palm.

"Careful, you still look like you're doing too much thinking. If you want something, John, you're going to have to ask for it in words. You're not going to be moving anything for yourself right now."

But that palm comes down to rest against John's cheek, warm and tender, giving what Siebren thinks is wanted right now. He is a gracious and loving Baron, after all.

"So talk to me, my boytoy. What are you craving most, right now?"

Thinking too much? John almost wants to laugh, because it’s actually getting hard to think. Siebren is barely touching him but goosebumps are rushing over his skin and he’s breathing hard. He wants to move and he can’t, and when Siebren calls him ‘boytoy’ a shiver tries to race up his spine, but he can’t move…

It makes his thoughts feel slow and warm and fuzzy, loose and slack while his body feels like a bowstring pulled too tight.

“…kiss me, please?”

It almost feels like he thinks it after he says it, as he looks up at Siebren from under heavy eyelids that keep trying to slip shut.

"Of course."

The words are whispered before Siebren claims John's lips for a heavy, intense kiss, meant to be overwhelming. He is deliberately pushing hard, keeping everything at 11. He knows how long it took John to get past his touch starvation, and now he's rewarding him with all the touch, all the contact, all the passions in him.

John accepts the kiss greedily, making a sound against his mouth that’s little more than a breathy hum only because he’s not physically capable of whining due to the same nerve damage that renders his voice so deep. He tries to kiss him back, unconsciously strains against the weight of Siebren’s power—and when he can’t move it’s even better somehow.

He feels like he’s drowning in Siebren. Like his power is an extension of his body so he’s touching John everywhere. Like nothing else exists but his mouth and his voice and his…and what he wants.

Siebren wants him to stop thinking. So, when the kiss breaks, still breathless, John tries to find the words to say that he wants that, wants to stop thinking because that’s what Siebren wants…but the words are hard to find.

“Wan’…wanna—wanna be…”

…what words are right?…

“…wanna be good for you. Please?”

"Oh, sweet, beautiful boy. You are good, just by being. Every inch of you is right, is perfect." Siebren's beakish nose nuzzles at the side of John's neck slowly, before he takes a deep breath like he's smelling a tasty dish before digging in. The hand not by his face travels south, toying at the hem of that sleeveless shirt.

"I almost want to taste you."

John’s head lists to the side with a sigh, caressed from within by those words, by Siebren’s voice. Caressed from without by his breath and that brush of his nose and his mouth so close—

He doesn’t realize he wants it until Siebren says it, and another shiver tries to race up his spine and escapes his mouth in a shuddery moan when his fingers skim over the hem of his shirt.

“Please…”

Touch him, taste him—he wants either, and both, and anything Siebren wants to give to him.

Siebren needs no further permission than that. His teeth graze, and then chomp hard on John's trapezius. Not hard enough to break skin, but that will certainly leave a mark.

The careful rake of teeth tears another of those breathy not-quite whines out of him.

The actual bite, hard and stinging, makes John’s vision white out with pleasure.

It hurts, of course there’s pain, but he feels so much and feels so safe like this, he’s just shy of limp and it goes from pain to heat to sharp sensation.

John can’t think, only feel, for long, delicious moments, gasping and moaning peppered with a couple barely coherent utterances of Siebren’s name—and when there is an instant he can almost form a clear thought, he wonders if he could come just like this, pinned and barely being touched save for his hand on John’s face and his teeth digging into John’s skin.

Well. Barely being touched is a state that is subject to change, as Siebren grinds against John slowly, almost rutting against him.

He has not put complete thought into the fact they're both still wearing pants. There might be a couple messes shortly.

…definitely sooner rather than later.

That lone rational thought slips away as Siebren grinds against him and John is only aware of more feeling, more sensation, more pleasure. He can’t move and he needs to move and needs to be closer and he needs he needs he needs.

“Sieb…please…please—fuck, good—gonna…Siebren…”

John’s orgasm doesn’t hit him, or come over him. It rises like a tide and then it’s just everything. If he could move, he would collapse and writhe and buck against Siebren until the pleasure was spent.

He can’t move, though—he just comes, and feels like he keeps coming, and like he’ll never stop coming as it consumes him, and his thoughts, and everything that isn’t Siebren.

It is right after he comes that Siebren releases him from the oppressive force of gravity. John is his usual weight again--but after so much heaviness, he feels impossibly light. Like a feather. Like a soap bubble.

That sudden lightness feels precisely that way: still dazed and more than a little high on endorphins, he reflexively reaches for Siebren to hold onto him so he won’t fly away.

“Gonna float away.” He laughs, pressing his face into Siebren’s bare shoulder. “Mmmmmm…m’ I flying?”

"As high as you want, mijn speeltje." Siebren laughs as well. "Take a deep breath for me?"

John doesn’t hesitate to obey, still feels good doing what Siebren wants…still feels so good, trembling with little shocks of pleasure now that he can move again.

He turns his head so his face isn’t mashed against muscle and takes a slow, deep breath, then lets it out the same way. His lungs are full of skin and a little sweat and the scent of rock candy, and he wants to melt.

“Wha’s that mean? Is it dirty?” John hums, making a low sound akin to a purr. “You need to teach me Dutch…think I might be a little high. Not just flyin’.”

"Don't worry. I'll stay with you until you come down again." He is going to make sure John recovers from the intensity of that endorphin rush slowly, and isn't going to leave his side yet.

John almost wants to laugh at how serious Siebren seems…but he feels too good, and he still feels—loopy is the best word for it. Not unpleasant, just definitely not normal.

He doesn’t want it to end—but Siebren stays close, just like he promised. He lets John hang on him until gravity feels normal again, and that does a lot to help him clear his head, at least a little.

Toy soldier.

John shuts his eyes with a happy sigh, the memory of his heavy limbs and Siebren’s voice drowning out Neil’s to practically nothing.

“Love you…thank you.” He sighs, shifting to kiss Siebren. “Wanna do that again sometime…wow.”

"Next time, when we're alone, so I can strip you naked and suck on your cock." He has no shame in saying this. Bold, isn't he?

Now that John's getting his faculties back, Siebren gestures to someone to grab some water and a little snack. Once those are in hand, he holds the cup up for John. "Here, drink."

It’s far too soon to get physically excited again, but his flush springs up anew and he shivers at the image in his head. Or maybe letting John strip him instead and suck Siebren’s cock…or tie John up for real and tease him…

He thinks of it, being bound in ripe by Siebren—and he’s starting to wonder if the whole ‘wolf man’ thing means he doesn’t need as much recovery time as he once did.

When Siebren instructs him to drink, John thinks he can feel himself coming down—it’s easy to obey, but less…blissful than a little while ago.

He’s able to take the cup and drink, nearly drain it dry. His throat doesn’t try to knot shut even once.

“I’d love that—maybe even more.” John admits once he’s finished with his drink. “Maybe even trade places if you’d like that.”

He can’t help but smile—or press a kiss to the curve of one bare, broad shoulder.

“I’ve never felt that good before…I’d love to do that for you, if you’re into it. And, uh…you pretty much have free rein to do that to me whenever you want, babe.”

"I do have ideas for longer, more detailed explorations. Body worship comes to mind. Hold you down and trace every one of your scars with my tongue. But I didn't want to push you too hard for the first time in public." He lowers his voice a little, almost conspiratory. "Everyone thinks you're lovely, you know. But they can't touch until I'm done with you."

John has to set his cup down or he’s going to drop it, because for a second the image in his head is so vivid he can almost feel the wet heat of his mouth and all the strange feelings that stirs…

There’s a split second he wonders if Siebren is messing with his memory again and doesn’t care—then just tucks that away for a time he might feel okay discussing something that…out there.

It hardly matters, because that secretive note in his voice makes John’s breath catch and his cheeks burn. He just—he doesn’t see it, but also the idea of Siebren wanting him that ferociously…

Yeah, it’s almost impossible not to feel sexy with that in his head and his mind still a little loose and soft with lingering endorphins.

“…what if I don’t want you to be done with me?” He asks softly, peering up at him. “What if…I don’t mind you pushing me a little bit in public?”

He’s not—fuck it he is absolutely blushing absolute crimson.

sticks and stones may break my bones (OTA 18+)

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