Bitte Bitte
Title: Bitte Bitte
Beta: Julie, my personal angel
Rating: : NC-17
Summary: : Some songs have a major hypnotic effect if you listen to them for an extended period of time. ‘Bitte Bitte’ is one of them.
Warnings: : BDSM PWP. If that’s not your cup of tea, you should leave this.
Feedback: : is the nourishment for every artist and I dearly hope I won’t starve.
A/N: : A big hug, chocolates and flowers to Julia for giving the album version of ‘Bitte Bitte’.
~+~oOo~+~
He’d been shocked when he first heard the song; of course he’d been. How else could he feel? After all, it was about everything that shouldn’t be. However, at the same time, he was strangely pleased with the realization that some people’s dreams are very much alike.
The hypnotic effect of this song was softly lulling him into a trance; he’d listened to it, once, twice... for two hours straight. Images slowly floated to the surface of his consciousness, becoming alive before his mind’s eye.
He saw Farin, tied up and bound, helplessly squirming under his touches, forbidden to make a sound. With ultimate power over his captive, he was the master of life and death here. He decided what punishments were fit for the smallest of missteps. The black riding crop in a gloved hand, striking when it was the least expected. Its metal end pressed down hard against the base of his captive’s bound cock, causing pain and pleasure alike.
Farin, spread-eagle on the bed and chained to the impressive posts with handcuffs… helpless again. Bela indulged in a stretch that was unspeakably carnal, then slammed in smoothly with all the wiry strength he possessed. Plundering the yielding cavern of the blond’s mouth with his own, he mirrored the action in lower regions.
Bela, tied and blindfolded in a cold room… his legs hurt from kneeling for an extended period of time, his neck muscles ached from holding his head to the ground. The textbook example of submission - he took everything that was offered, plastic and flesh equally, and wanted still more. His body was not only covered in tattoos, but also in bruises, scratches, and whip marks; sore from constant fucking in all imaginable positions. He’s a whore for him, and he knows it.
The tip of the whip traced his tattoos, making him shiver in anticipation. He closed his eyes, though it was pointless as he was still blindfolded. His perception narrowed to feeling alone- hot breath ghosting over his skin, sharp caresses from the whip, breathless whispers that were felt and not heard. A sharp crack- the hit almost knocked him to the ground, but he knew that should he so much as sway his punishment would be many times as severe.
He barely managed to swallow a throaty moan as he was roughly penetrated from behind; the warmth of his Master’s body hinted at a certain gentleness, but the power and the speed of his thrusts spoke otherwise. He felt his back arch wantonly, when suddenly a hand covered his mouth and fingers slipped between his lips. He sucked them well and with care- he knew what would follow.
His upper body was pushed forward towards the cold concrete floor, connecting with more than a little force. The thrusts stopped for a moment as he felt long, slim fingers he’d wet himself slip into his body alongside the cock, stretching him more and more, until the thrusting resumed, the fingers still inside him, pressing against his prostate with every move. He screamed, releasing all the pain and pleasure that threatened to suffocate him in their thick haze. Then the adrenaline kicked in, and he shot from the deepest circle of a lustful hell to a heaven of a mind-shattering orgasm that made all the pain he’d endured worthwhile.
Bela swallowed dryly.
‘Please, please make it come true...’