(no subject)
TITLE: Kinky Little Games we Play 2
AUTHOR: Dragynflies
RATING: NC 17 for BDSM
SUMMARY: This is another part in my Sylar and Elle are Kinky verse.
Part 1: the Mohinder/Elle/Sylar BDSM fic for the Heroes Kink Meme
Part 2: Kinky Little Games We Play
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Many thanks to Faded_facade for too many things to list. I would have written something plotty, or something less BDSM-y, but writing smut fic is a good stress reliever. So this is what you get. Comments are soooo appreciated.
“Wake up, Elle,” Sylar ordered, flipping the switch on the vibrator. Elle shot awake, fighting in her restraints, babbling incoherently behind the rubber ball gag buckled tightly between her teeth. “You passed out,” he observed, wiping her hair away from her sweaty forehead, “and if you’re asleep, then it’s not as much fun.”
Elle bucked her hips hard, trying to dislodge the hitatchi secured between her legs. The afternoon had turned into one big blur of orgasms that shook her to the core, and she was frantic with the desire for a break.
Sylar gave the swing a gentle push, sending Elle rocking in her nylon and metal prison. Unfortunately, the toys were attached to her body through an elaborate system of loops and buckles on a harness, and the vibrators didn’t move. Her entire lower body was lit up with vibrations - one slim toy in her ass and another in her pussy, the hitatchi pressed so tightly against her clit that her vision was still black around the edges.
“Breathe,” he ordered, smacking his palm across her cheek. Elle inhaled sharply, pulling cool air into her heated lungs. Sylar laughed, flicking the clothespins on her nipples before turning the hitachi off.
Elle’s entire body went limp the second the vibrations stopped. Sylar gave her just enough time to breathe in and out once more, then turned the vibrator back onto high. Elle screamed, jerking against her bonds, blue sparks crawling across her sweat dampened body as she panted behind the gag.
“You’ve had such a long day,” Sylar said, his voice mockingly sweet. He rubbed her belly gently, but Elle was too far to gone notice his touch. “I bet you’ve lost count…”
Elle’s eyelids fluttered as her body arched into another orgasm, the line between pain and pleasure so blurred she didn’t even know what she was feeling. Sylar’s nimble fingers unbuckled the gag, pulling the red ball from between her teeth.
“What’s your name?” he demanded.
“What?” Elle managed, fighting to get away from the sensations.
“Say your name,” he repeated.
“Elle,” she panted, trying to focus on his questions.
“Elle what?”
“Elle Gray,” she stammered, “What…?”
“Where do you live?”
“Mon…Montana,” she answered. She blinked a few times, trying to make her eyes focus on him. The questions were arbitrary, but she was practically programmed to respond to him.
“If you answer everything right on the first time, I’ll start turning them off,” Sylar told her, and Elle nodded pleadingly.
The next ten minutes were a blur of stupid questions. Addition, subtraction, colors of things in the house. What year was it, and what month? What was her favorite color, and what was his? What did she make for dinner last night?
It didn’t matter how stupid the questions were. Elle clenched her teeth and tried to focus on Sylar, tried to ignore the way her body was clenching rhythmically around the toys trapped inside of her. His questions divided her attention, the toys made it hard for her to focus and listen.
Finally, he pulled the slim vibrator from her ass. Elle whimpered in relief as the cool metal cylinder dropped to the floor. The thicker toy trapped in her pussy came next and Elle couldn’t hold back her moan.
Sylar positioned his hand over the switch on the hitatchi, “Who do you belong to?”
“You,” Elle sobbed, “You, I belong to you. Oh, god, please.”
Sylar laughed cruelly, standing between her spread legs, “You’re right,” he told her, “You do belong to me. And I’d like to see you come once more.” He gripped the handle of the hitatchi, pressing it hard against her clit, and Elle flung her head back, her neck arched.
Seconds ticked by; it might have been minutes. Elle’s teeth clamped down on her lower lip so hard she tasted blood. When she came the last time, big fuzzy black spots danced across her line of vision, and she slumped in the swing, unconscious.
She woke up later, cleaned up and snuggled in bed, the red comforter tucked around her exhausted body.
“Gabriel?” she asked, sitting up in bed and looking around the bedroom. He was nowhere to be seen, so she crawled out of bed on shaky legs, stumbling to the living room. Her pussy throbbed, deliciously numb and tender at the same time. Sometime between her last orgasm and waking, Sylar had removed the clothespins from her breasts and soothed the red indentations they’d left behind.
She found him in the living room, sprawled out on the couch wearing black track pants and nothing else.
“Hi,” she said, a little shyly, and he smiled, opening his arms up so that she could crawl into his lap and bury her face against his chest.
“Morning,” he teased, sliding his fingers through her hair, twisting the strands between his fingers, “How do you feel?”
“Mmm,” Elle murmured, rubbing her eyes sleepily, “Tired.”
“How does this feel?” Sylar snaked his hand between her legs, brushing the pads of his fingers over her swollen clit. Elle squealed and squirmed, pulling away from his touch.
“No,” Elle panted, crossing her legs firmly. Sylar raised an eyebrow and smirked at her.
“Do you want to try that again?” he asked, pushing her legs apart and resting his palm against her heated pussy.
“Please no more?” Elle pouted, “Sir?”
Pinning her against him with a palm flat against her belly, he pushed two fingers into her. She whimpered, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. He teased her for fifteen more agonizing seconds, then moved his hand away from her.
“Thank you, sir,” Elle sighed, relieved, and Sylar couldn’t hold back his chuckle.
“You did so well today,” he praised lightly. Elle flushed, pleased, and he went back to stroking his fingers through her hair. She was just about asleep when she heard his voice again.
“Tomorrow we’ll see if you can’t go even longer.”
AUTHOR: Dragynflies
RATING: NC 17 for BDSM
SUMMARY: This is another part in my Sylar and Elle are Kinky verse.
Part 1: the Mohinder/Elle/Sylar BDSM fic for the Heroes Kink Meme
Part 2: Kinky Little Games We Play
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Many thanks to Faded_facade for too many things to list. I would have written something plotty, or something less BDSM-y, but writing smut fic is a good stress reliever. So this is what you get. Comments are soooo appreciated.
“Wake up, Elle,” Sylar ordered, flipping the switch on the vibrator. Elle shot awake, fighting in her restraints, babbling incoherently behind the rubber ball gag buckled tightly between her teeth. “You passed out,” he observed, wiping her hair away from her sweaty forehead, “and if you’re asleep, then it’s not as much fun.”
Elle bucked her hips hard, trying to dislodge the hitatchi secured between her legs. The afternoon had turned into one big blur of orgasms that shook her to the core, and she was frantic with the desire for a break.
Sylar gave the swing a gentle push, sending Elle rocking in her nylon and metal prison. Unfortunately, the toys were attached to her body through an elaborate system of loops and buckles on a harness, and the vibrators didn’t move. Her entire lower body was lit up with vibrations - one slim toy in her ass and another in her pussy, the hitatchi pressed so tightly against her clit that her vision was still black around the edges.
“Breathe,” he ordered, smacking his palm across her cheek. Elle inhaled sharply, pulling cool air into her heated lungs. Sylar laughed, flicking the clothespins on her nipples before turning the hitachi off.
Elle’s entire body went limp the second the vibrations stopped. Sylar gave her just enough time to breathe in and out once more, then turned the vibrator back onto high. Elle screamed, jerking against her bonds, blue sparks crawling across her sweat dampened body as she panted behind the gag.
“You’ve had such a long day,” Sylar said, his voice mockingly sweet. He rubbed her belly gently, but Elle was too far to gone notice his touch. “I bet you’ve lost count…”
Elle’s eyelids fluttered as her body arched into another orgasm, the line between pain and pleasure so blurred she didn’t even know what she was feeling. Sylar’s nimble fingers unbuckled the gag, pulling the red ball from between her teeth.
“What’s your name?” he demanded.
“What?” Elle managed, fighting to get away from the sensations.
“Say your name,” he repeated.
“Elle,” she panted, trying to focus on his questions.
“Elle what?”
“Elle Gray,” she stammered, “What…?”
“Where do you live?”
“Mon…Montana,” she answered. She blinked a few times, trying to make her eyes focus on him. The questions were arbitrary, but she was practically programmed to respond to him.
“If you answer everything right on the first time, I’ll start turning them off,” Sylar told her, and Elle nodded pleadingly.
The next ten minutes were a blur of stupid questions. Addition, subtraction, colors of things in the house. What year was it, and what month? What was her favorite color, and what was his? What did she make for dinner last night?
It didn’t matter how stupid the questions were. Elle clenched her teeth and tried to focus on Sylar, tried to ignore the way her body was clenching rhythmically around the toys trapped inside of her. His questions divided her attention, the toys made it hard for her to focus and listen.
Finally, he pulled the slim vibrator from her ass. Elle whimpered in relief as the cool metal cylinder dropped to the floor. The thicker toy trapped in her pussy came next and Elle couldn’t hold back her moan.
Sylar positioned his hand over the switch on the hitatchi, “Who do you belong to?”
“You,” Elle sobbed, “You, I belong to you. Oh, god, please.”
Sylar laughed cruelly, standing between her spread legs, “You’re right,” he told her, “You do belong to me. And I’d like to see you come once more.” He gripped the handle of the hitatchi, pressing it hard against her clit, and Elle flung her head back, her neck arched.
Seconds ticked by; it might have been minutes. Elle’s teeth clamped down on her lower lip so hard she tasted blood. When she came the last time, big fuzzy black spots danced across her line of vision, and she slumped in the swing, unconscious.
She woke up later, cleaned up and snuggled in bed, the red comforter tucked around her exhausted body.
“Gabriel?” she asked, sitting up in bed and looking around the bedroom. He was nowhere to be seen, so she crawled out of bed on shaky legs, stumbling to the living room. Her pussy throbbed, deliciously numb and tender at the same time. Sometime between her last orgasm and waking, Sylar had removed the clothespins from her breasts and soothed the red indentations they’d left behind.
She found him in the living room, sprawled out on the couch wearing black track pants and nothing else.
“Hi,” she said, a little shyly, and he smiled, opening his arms up so that she could crawl into his lap and bury her face against his chest.
“Morning,” he teased, sliding his fingers through her hair, twisting the strands between his fingers, “How do you feel?”
“Mmm,” Elle murmured, rubbing her eyes sleepily, “Tired.”
“How does this feel?” Sylar snaked his hand between her legs, brushing the pads of his fingers over her swollen clit. Elle squealed and squirmed, pulling away from his touch.
“No,” Elle panted, crossing her legs firmly. Sylar raised an eyebrow and smirked at her.
“Do you want to try that again?” he asked, pushing her legs apart and resting his palm against her heated pussy.
“Please no more?” Elle pouted, “Sir?”
Pinning her against him with a palm flat against her belly, he pushed two fingers into her. She whimpered, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. He teased her for fifteen more agonizing seconds, then moved his hand away from her.
“Thank you, sir,” Elle sighed, relieved, and Sylar couldn’t hold back his chuckle.
“You did so well today,” he praised lightly. Elle flushed, pleased, and he went back to stroking his fingers through her hair. She was just about asleep when she heard his voice again.
“Tomorrow we’ll see if you can’t go even longer.”