Let’s Play Turnabout

Content includes insinuated rough sex and manipulation.

“That’s it, my Master. Lay down, right here.”

Landyn wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to this. He was the Master, as she’d said, and she was his slave, bought on the market, fair and square. She’d been marked and collared and chained. She was a possession.

And he was a Noble.

But “let’s play,” Keely had suggested. Keely liked to play, and for some reason, Landyn always found himself agreeing to her games.

“Let’s play,” she’d said, and they’d been running around the forgotten sections of the old Habitat. “Let’s play,” she’s purred, and they’d put on Citizen’s jumpsuits and covered her collar and his tattoos with scarves and jewelry and gone running through the town-bubbles like they were just normal Citizen kids. “Let’s play,” she’d whispered, and they’d dressed up in their finest and crashed the wedding of a rich Citizen’s eldest daughter.

“Let’s play,” she’d suggested, and now Landyn was wearing no clothes at all, nothing except a makeshift collar made of his own belt, face down on the bed while his own slave crawled up over him, her long hair dangling over his back and the token chains on her wrists and ankles jingling.

“This isn’t how it happens, not really,” she whispered in his ear. “Because I like you, my Master. And because you play with me. And because you’re a Noble. If we played for real, if we did it the way it happens…”

“What?” Landyn’s voice was muffled against the pillow. He craned his neck, trying to look at her.

Keely put her hand over his eyes, blocking his view. “The way it happens when you become a thing. When they take it all away from you.”

Landyn swallowed. “Just play, you said. Just play.”

Her hand trailed over his back. “Just play, of course, my Master.” Her fingers slid down lower, down to the bottom of his spine. “Like I said, you’re a Noble. And everyone knows that the Nobles couldn’t handle the hard life.”

It stung his pride, even as he found himself lifting his hips to her touch. “I’m not weak. I’m not delicate.

“Of course not, my Master. Bite the pillow, that’s a good boy, and show me how not delicate you are.”

Landyn wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to this, but as he arched to her touch, he knew there was no way he was going to back out this time. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t some frail Habitat-hider. He’d been out in town. He’d…

As his moans grew louder and she shoved his face into the pillow, as he bit down on the feathers, transfixed between pain and pleasure, it occurred to Landyn, if only for a moment, that perhaps that was exactly what Keely wanted him to try to prove.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1007058.html. You can comment here or there.

This entry was posted on November 9, 2015, in SciFi and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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