[The involuntary noise he makes is miserable, lips closing around Ariel's fingers, sucking on them slowly. He pushes his tongue between them, over them, along the pads of his fingers and under, cringing the whole time. But exactly what Ariel wants, obedient, degraded, submissive.]
[That's perfect. Perfectly pathetic, perfectly base, perfectly attractive. He shivers at the feeling, letting out a low, shaky breath and pressing a little harder with his thumb on his next stroke. He pulls his fingers back eventually, instead running his hand along Tristan's thigh and to his ass.]
[It's really alarming and disgusting, having Ariel's fingers in his mouth while his other hand keeps Tristan hard. He looks away when Ariel pulls his fingers out, lips wet but not bothering to lick them, doing his best to pull in on himself with what the position allows.]
[He's humiliated, shamed, turned on, disgusted, and every time he thinks it can't get worse it does. He feels like the rug is being yanked from under him over and over, constantly falling. He wants to scream in frustration but making much noise is hard past the lump of terror in his throat.]
[So instead his voice is quiet and meek, if a little ragged and cracking.]
Only one liked me so much. And you killed her in malice.
[It's the closest he can muster to anger right now. Exhausted grief. Even if he is incredibly popular he only ever cared about that one.]
[For not doing as he was told. For wasting his time on someone who wasn't worth it. Now she's been disposed of, and all he has is this, the feeling of his little brother's fingers, wet with his own spit, pressing inside of him.]
[He should probably be glad Ariel's kind enough to use even his own saliva for this. But it's hard to feel grateful for anything in this situation, and he squirms, uncomfortable and tense.]
I haven't.
[He knows roughly how it works. He's not ignorant. But he was never interested either.]
Oh, who knows? When you were busy with her, maybe?
[He curls his fingers a bit, having fun just playing around and making Tristan uncomfortable. His other hand keeps moving, and Ariel wonders if he can get his brother off like this, just with his hands, even when he's disgusted and afraid.]
[Tristan's actually a little calmer now. Because this is happening no matter what he says or does or begs, so the firm certainty in it is a little steadying. It's not pleasant and he hates it and he still feels gross, but he's not fighting it because there's no point.]
You're a bit young for thissss.
[Unfortunately that last word ends in a hiss, sharp. It's bad enough having his brother's fingers inside him, but he didn't know it could feel like that, that jolt of pleasure, and even if anatomy is his brother's interest why does he know how to look for that. He turns his face to hide the expression of conflicted pleasure and revulsion, trying to breathe carefully to keep from moaning like a whore. Despite himself his hips twitch, not to squirm away but because it feels good, rocking once between the hand on his erection and the fingers inside him, and he clenches his jaw, feeling debased.]
A woman's body is already capable of bearing children at my age, you know. If I have an interest, I'll do what I want to pursue it.
[Right now what he wants is to steadily keep working on Tristan, one hand's fingers sliding gently in and out while the other firmly strokes, thumb circling the head of his erection. He watches it all with the interest of a cat playing with a mouse, sadistic pleasure written all over his face.]
[The gentleness is unfair. The unrelenting attention isn't helping anything--except to make Tristan's breath quicken and his shoulders hunch in humiliation.]
Ariel...
[The way he whispers the name is a husky mix of pleasure and misery and desperation, a sweetly pleading note of entreaty. Trying hard to fight the pleasure, too disgusted by his own body's responses but unable to stop it from feeling good. His hips actually buck on the next stroke, Ariel's thumb gathering precum when he presses it over the head.]
It's good, isn't it? You can't deny the way you're feeling, no matter how much you want to, so why don't you just let me hear it?
[He could have been brutal, if he'd wanted to. But it's turning out much better to watch Tristan succumb to unwelcome pleasure, caving mired in humiliation and disgust.]
[There's plenty of time to be brutal later. To do whatever he wants.]
This is sick...
[Liking it makes him sick, it has to. How can he be enjoying this at all, let alone feeling his heart race and his balls tighten in pleasure at each stroke of attention.]
[He stretches his fingers apart inside of Tristan, making sure to repeat every action that's gotten the best response. He wants to see him come apart.]
[Every repeat is torture, it feels good and it makes Tristan's chest hurt, he wants to crawl out of his own skin he's so appalled by how turned on he is at this point. Even trying to hold back, he's starting to gasp softly, a low moan dragging out of him at something Ariel's fingers do. The same fucking hands that murdered June are getting him off and it's disgusting.]
[This is cruel, making him enjoy it, and he's starting to cry again, tears blurring his vision.]
[And all at once he lets himself scream, a sudden yell of wordless emotion, everything pent up from the last horrible hour, terror and hurt and grief and fury and fear and disgust and humiliation and need, all dragging out of him until his voice is a ragged wheeze. And he's arching his back, thrusting against Ariel's hands without even a hint of restraint, coming hard and abruptly.]
[Ariel doesn't stop until Tristan's completely spent, just smiling while he screams and while he comes. That's a beautiful sound and a beautiful sight, and he won't forget it. That he could make his brother sound so intense and look so shattered is a pleasure that makes him shiver all down his spine.
His face is heated from it, from thinking about what he's done and what he's going to do in the future, and he can't help if he looks a little needy himself when he sits back to survey the results of his work so far. His trails his already sticky fingers in the warm semen, lifting them to his mouth to lick the same way he always licks frosting stolen from one of Tristan's cakes. His pupils are blown wide, his cheeks pink, and it's just a matter of deciding how he's going to go about finishing this before he makes his next move.]
[Tristan stares at Ariel, watching him lick his fingers with Tristan's cum on them, and he doesn't even know what he feels anymore. It's weirdly erotic but he doesn't want to think of it that way, but even when he rebels at it it's true. He feels heavy and warm from orgasm and sick and gross from everything else. He doesn't try to look away or hide his face, too exhausted and spent, just trying to breathe.]
[He gets a few moments to catch his breath, at least. It takes that long for Ariel to settle on finishing what he started, and to wriggle out of his own clothes (he doesn't want to get his things messy). But then he's back, tugging at Tristan's hips and pressing into him without any further verbal teasing. He's too wound up himself at this point. He just wants, and he's eager and just a bit rough in his taking.]
[Tristan cries out hoarsely, sore and oversensitive from his recent orgasm. He barely has a voice to protest with though, nonverbal as he is. He's tight, though at least Ariel's fingers loosened him enough not to leave this tearing him open. It's not so bad as it could be. He squirms, twisting his hips away. The movements likely do nothing to stop it from feeling good, the expression on his face, looking straight at Ariel, raw with emotion. ]
[That's such a pretty face. He hopes to see it a lot from now on, whenever he wants it. And he will, of course. He'll have anything he wants, although right now holding onto Tristan's hips is a little difficult, given that he still is bigger and stronger. But Ariel is determined, and he'll resort to violence again if he has to.]
[He lifts the spell as promised, freeing Tristan's wrists from their binding. He expects good behavior now, and untenses, resting one hand on his brother's stomach and gripping his hip with the other as he fucks him. His breath is shaky and his face flushed, composure wavering a bit with a pleasure he's still not entirely used to.]
[Tris cradles his broken hand to his chest. As promised, he doesn't struggle, taking in deep slow breaths as well as he can against the reality of being fucked for the first time, by his own brother.]
[Seeing Ariel look like that, his composure cracking, it's so odd. Tristan tilts his hips into what Ariel is doing, not out of pleasure, not right now, but if he's being obedient he doesn't want this to last. If he's going to get used to this, if he isn't going to resist, he can try to make it go quicker.]
[Fortunately for Tristan, Ariel's inexperience doesn't give him much stamina. It doesn't take long at this pace before he finishes, gasping sharply and coming inside of his brother with a shudder.]
Hah-- It's better with you than a stranger, after all.
[It feels strange and hot and weird feeling Ariel's semen inside him. He looks away, feeling really cold and unsettled, Ariel's words making him shiver.]
[He pulls out and hops off the bed in obvious good spirits, gathering his things as if to head to the bath, like this was nothing out of the ordinary.]
[Tris doesn't even have the energy to curl on his side, sprawled where he is still holding his broken wrist and wondering if this just... Did that all just happen? It's so surreal and terrifying that the world is continuing on despite it... But it's not his first encounter with real violence, it's not the first time he's had to sit up and deal with grief and helplessness.]
[It's just this time he feels a lot filthier.]
........You're too young....
[For any of this. It's horrifying. Actually he feels honestly sick, maybe he should go throw up.]
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[That's perfect. Perfectly pathetic, perfectly base, perfectly attractive. He shivers at the feeling, letting out a low, shaky breath and pressing a little harder with his thumb on his next stroke. He pulls his fingers back eventually, instead running his hand along Tristan's thigh and to his ass.]
No wonder all the girls like you so much.
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[He's humiliated, shamed, turned on, disgusted, and every time he thinks it can't get worse it does. He feels like the rug is being yanked from under him over and over, constantly falling. He wants to scream in frustration but making much noise is hard past the lump of terror in his throat.]
[So instead his voice is quiet and meek, if a little ragged and cracking.]
Only one liked me so much. And you killed her in malice.
[It's the closest he can muster to anger right now. Exhausted grief. Even if he is incredibly popular he only ever cared about that one.]
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[For not doing as he was told. For wasting his time on someone who wasn't worth it. Now she's been disposed of, and all he has is this, the feeling of his little brother's fingers, wet with his own spit, pressing inside of him.]
Have you ever slept with a man before?
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I haven't.
[He knows roughly how it works. He's not ignorant. But he was never interested either.]
When were you learning all this?
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[He curls his fingers a bit, having fun just playing around and making Tristan uncomfortable. His other hand keeps moving, and Ariel wonders if he can get his brother off like this, just with his hands, even when he's disgusted and afraid.]
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You're a bit young for thissss.
[Unfortunately that last word ends in a hiss, sharp. It's bad enough having his brother's fingers inside him, but he didn't know it could feel like that, that jolt of pleasure, and even if anatomy is his brother's interest why does he know how to look for that. He turns his face to hide the expression of conflicted pleasure and revulsion, trying to breathe carefully to keep from moaning like a whore. Despite himself his hips twitch, not to squirm away but because it feels good, rocking once between the hand on his erection and the fingers inside him, and he clenches his jaw, feeling debased.]
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A woman's body is already capable of bearing children at my age, you know. If I have an interest, I'll do what I want to pursue it.
[Right now what he wants is to steadily keep working on Tristan, one hand's fingers sliding gently in and out while the other firmly strokes, thumb circling the head of his erection. He watches it all with the interest of a cat playing with a mouse, sadistic pleasure written all over his face.]
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Ariel...
[The way he whispers the name is a husky mix of pleasure and misery and desperation, a sweetly pleading note of entreaty. Trying hard to fight the pleasure, too disgusted by his own body's responses but unable to stop it from feeling good. His hips actually buck on the next stroke, Ariel's thumb gathering precum when he presses it over the head.]
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It's good, isn't it? You can't deny the way you're feeling, no matter how much you want to, so why don't you just let me hear it?
[He could have been brutal, if he'd wanted to. But it's turning out much better to watch Tristan succumb to unwelcome pleasure, caving mired in humiliation and disgust.]
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This is sick...
[Liking it makes him sick, it has to. How can he be enjoying this at all, let alone feeling his heart race and his balls tighten in pleasure at each stroke of attention.]
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Maybe. You're still enjoying it.
[He stretches his fingers apart inside of Tristan, making sure to repeat every action that's gotten the best response. He wants to see him come apart.]
Go on and let it out.
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[This is cruel, making him enjoy it, and he's starting to cry again, tears blurring his vision.]
[And all at once he lets himself scream, a sudden yell of wordless emotion, everything pent up from the last horrible hour, terror and hurt and grief and fury and fear and disgust and humiliation and need, all dragging out of him until his voice is a ragged wheeze. And he's arching his back, thrusting against Ariel's hands without even a hint of restraint, coming hard and abruptly.]
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[Ariel doesn't stop until Tristan's completely spent, just smiling while he screams and while he comes. That's a beautiful sound and a beautiful sight, and he won't forget it. That he could make his brother sound so intense and look so shattered is a pleasure that makes him shiver all down his spine.
His face is heated from it, from thinking about what he's done and what he's going to do in the future, and he can't help if he looks a little needy himself when he sits back to survey the results of his work so far. His trails his already sticky fingers in the warm semen, lifting them to his mouth to lick the same way he always licks frosting stolen from one of Tristan's cakes. His pupils are blown wide, his cheeks pink, and it's just a matter of deciding how he's going to go about finishing this before he makes his next move.]
My, that was even louder than I expected.
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[He gets a few moments to catch his breath, at least. It takes that long for Ariel to settle on finishing what he started, and to wriggle out of his own clothes (he doesn't want to get his things messy). But then he's back, tugging at Tristan's hips and pressing into him without any further verbal teasing. He's too wound up himself at this point. He just wants, and he's eager and just a bit rough in his taking.]
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[That's such a pretty face. He hopes to see it a lot from now on, whenever he wants it. And he will, of course. He'll have anything he wants, although right now holding onto Tristan's hips is a little difficult, given that he still is bigger and stronger. But Ariel is determined, and he'll resort to violence again if he has to.]
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Okay. ....Okay.
[He concedes, voice rough. Unhappy with this but submitting. He's already submitted to so much already. ]
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Good.
[He lifts the spell as promised, freeing Tristan's wrists from their binding. He expects good behavior now, and untenses, resting one hand on his brother's stomach and gripping his hip with the other as he fucks him. His breath is shaky and his face flushed, composure wavering a bit with a pleasure he's still not entirely used to.]
You can relax. You may as well get used to this.
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[Seeing Ariel look like that, his composure cracking, it's so odd. Tristan tilts his hips into what Ariel is doing, not out of pleasure, not right now, but if he's being obedient he doesn't want this to last. If he's going to get used to this, if he isn't going to resist, he can try to make it go quicker.]
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Hah-- It's better with you than a stranger, after all.
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When...
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[He pulls out and hops off the bed in obvious good spirits, gathering his things as if to head to the bath, like this was nothing out of the ordinary.]
It's none of your business.
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[It's just this time he feels a lot filthier.]
........You're too young....
[For any of this. It's horrifying. Actually he feels honestly sick, maybe he should go throw up.]
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