Spoiler: Anon is in love with the England/France/Canada/America dynamic.
So, anon would love a E/F/C/A group...something. Smut totally okay (and very much appreciated!) Anon would love some bondage too, preferably America and Canada tied up(or France. France would be fine too).
Re: Prey [1/?]
anonymous
June 2 2009, 02:35:59 UTC
First time writing bondage? I don't think so anon! This was too good for someone writing this for the first time! (And if I have any say in the matter, it wont be the last time either!) Excessive use of exclamation marks!
Francis watches them both freeze before turning towards him with half-lidded, dazed eyes.
“What did I say before I left?” Arthur asks, prowling towards the bed. Francis can hear the smile in that voice, dark and focused and filled with fangs.
“Ar - Arthur,” Alfred pleads. “We - I couldn’t help myself -”
Alfred yelps as Arthur slaps the riding crop against his ass - hard enough that it leaves a red mark, but not hard enough to bruise. “Of course, Alfred, you can never help yourself. And you wonder why you get punished so much. And you,” Arthur says, rounding on Matthew, “I expected much better of you, Matthew.”
Francis stops appreciating Alfred and Matthew’s naked bodies long enough to appreciate the way Matthew’s eyelashes flutter as he looks away. “I’m sorry, sir,” he murmurs, and oh, how delectable that soft voice is
( ... )
ldkfjal;sdfaweojieLJWEL
anonymous
June 2 2009, 03:58:00 UTC
Incoherent anon is incoherent. This is fucking amazing so far, especially Arthur directing the whole thing. Will be here hanging onto the F5 button for dear life.
“One more thing,” Arthur murmurs. The boys part to let Arthur in, causing Francis to whine at the loss of their touch and strain his legs against the rope. Arthur ignores him by bending down, reaching into his pocket, and pulling out a small ring of black rubber.
It takes Francis a moment to recognize what it is, and Arthur has it shoved down to the base of his cock before he can say a single thing.
Arthur looks up at him through half-mast eyes; their breaths meet and mingle in the air between them. “Tamed and tied up,” Arthur murmurs with a small smile.
A breath trembles out of Francis’ throat, and he leans forward. Arthur chooses to indulge him with a brief, chaste kiss, except it’s not indulgence at all because Francis is so hot for Arthur, so needy that the brief contact isn’t enough when Arthur pulls away
( ... )
“I - I’ve got to -” And everything else Matthew might have said gets lost in one tense, raw wail as his body stiffens. Arthur pulls Matthew back and out of Alfred’s mouth as he comes.
Alfred makes a soft sound as Matthew’s semen splatters across his face and chin, but he doesn’t look away and he doesn’t back off. Arthur’s hand tugs at Matthew’s cock, slow, long strokes to draw out his climax and bring him down slowly. Matthew sighs, slumps against Arthur as he finishes. Arthur graces Matthew with a slow, tender kiss against the jumping vein in his neck.
“You may rest for now,” Arthur grants, laying Matthew back on the pillows and brushing his hair out of his face. “Get your strength back, lad.”
Francis makes a soft sound and shifts in the seat as Matthew and Arthur kiss. It’s gentle, it’s soft, but it’s possessive and doting and permitting, and it’s what Francis wants
( ... )
“You okay?” Alfred whispers. Francis merely nods, righting himself when Alfred wraps a hand around his bicep and drags him to the bed.
Any gentleness Alfred showed before disappears as he tosses Francis onto the bed. He lands across Matthew’s thighs with an ungraceful “oof,” almost turning back to glare at Alfred.
But then he looks up and into green eyes. A gentle hand comes up to cup his chin, a thumb strokes across his jaw, and Francis swears that if he gets any harder it will become a physical pain.
“Look at you,” Arthur sneers. “Rutting against the bed.” Francis blinks and realizes Arthur’s right; he stills his hips, but it’s too late. “Don’t you have any self control?” Arthur asks, hot breath washing over Francis’ lips. “Of course you don’t. You’ll do anything that moves, won’t you?”
Francis finds his voice. “Kiss me,” he whispers, almost a broken sob. “Please.”
Arthur’s hand travels up past his ear, into his hair. He grabs and jerks, making Francis’ neck arch back. It hurts and it’s rough, and it’s so incredibly
( ... )
So, anon would love a E/F/C/A group...something. Smut totally okay (and very much appreciated!) Anon would love some bondage too, preferably America and Canada tied up(or France. France would be fine too).
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Excessive use of exclamation marks!
Can't wait for more, anon!
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“What did I say before I left?” Arthur asks, prowling towards the bed. Francis can hear the smile in that voice, dark and focused and filled with fangs.
“Ar - Arthur,” Alfred pleads. “We - I couldn’t help myself -”
Alfred yelps as Arthur slaps the riding crop against his ass - hard enough that it leaves a red mark, but not hard enough to bruise. “Of course, Alfred, you can never help yourself. And you wonder why you get punished so much. And you,” Arthur says, rounding on Matthew, “I expected much better of you, Matthew.”
Francis stops appreciating Alfred and Matthew’s naked bodies long enough to appreciate the way Matthew’s eyelashes flutter as he looks away. “I’m sorry, sir,” he murmurs, and oh, how delectable that soft voice is ( ... )
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It takes Francis a moment to recognize what it is, and Arthur has it shoved down to the base of his cock before he can say a single thing.
Arthur looks up at him through half-mast eyes; their breaths meet and mingle in the air between them. “Tamed and tied up,” Arthur murmurs with a small smile.
A breath trembles out of Francis’ throat, and he leans forward. Arthur chooses to indulge him with a brief, chaste kiss, except it’s not indulgence at all because Francis is so hot for Arthur, so needy that the brief contact isn’t enough when Arthur pulls away ( ... )
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Oh my guh, this is so hot writer-anon! I'm dying for the next part!
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Anon, I will marry you.
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(Part of me is hoping Francis has to use the safe word, guess that makes me evil)
Oh recaptcha: maleness hour
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Alfred makes a soft sound as Matthew’s semen splatters across his face and chin, but he doesn’t look away and he doesn’t back off. Arthur’s hand tugs at Matthew’s cock, slow, long strokes to draw out his climax and bring him down slowly. Matthew sighs, slumps against Arthur as he finishes. Arthur graces Matthew with a slow, tender kiss against the jumping vein in his neck.
“You may rest for now,” Arthur grants, laying Matthew back on the pillows and brushing his hair out of his face. “Get your strength back, lad.”
Francis makes a soft sound and shifts in the seat as Matthew and Arthur kiss. It’s gentle, it’s soft, but it’s possessive and doting and permitting, and it’s what Francis wants ( ... )
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Any gentleness Alfred showed before disappears as he tosses Francis onto the bed. He lands across Matthew’s thighs with an ungraceful “oof,” almost turning back to glare at Alfred.
But then he looks up and into green eyes. A gentle hand comes up to cup his chin, a thumb strokes across his jaw, and Francis swears that if he gets any harder it will become a physical pain.
“Look at you,” Arthur sneers. “Rutting against the bed.” Francis blinks and realizes Arthur’s right; he stills his hips, but it’s too late. “Don’t you have any self control?” Arthur asks, hot breath washing over Francis’ lips. “Of course you don’t. You’ll do anything that moves, won’t you?”
Francis finds his voice. “Kiss me,” he whispers, almost a broken sob. “Please.”
Arthur’s hand travels up past his ear, into his hair. He grabs and jerks, making Francis’ neck arch back. It hurts and it’s rough, and it’s so incredibly ( ... )
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I'll be over here, F5-ing like mad. Please, soldier on writer!anon ♥
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