bakerstreet | (no subject)

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The HURT ME Meme
For kinks of pain: physical and emotional.

WARNING: Prompts will contain sexual and violent content and triggers. Click with caution!

THE PHYSICAL:
1 - Slapping. Bare-handed: including spanking, face-slapping.
2 - Flogging. With a leather flog, as soft or hard as you want.
3 - Breathplay. Cut off their oxygen.
4 - Beating (soft). Leaving bruises and marks.
5 - Waxplay. Feels like a burn, but isn't.
6 - Biting. Use your teeth.
7 - Gunplay. It might be the hurt, or the threat of it.
8 - Bloodplay (soft). Just a few cuts…
9 - Sexual exhaustion. Forcing them just a little too far, until it hurts more than it feels good.
10 - Suspension. Bind them so they can't (or can only barely) touch the ground, and wait for it to do its trick.
11 - Dubious consent. Don't know if they want it or not.
12 - OTHER.

THE EMOTIONAL:
1 - Loss. You've taken away something they care about deeply, perhaps destroyed it - or killed someone close to them.
2 - Rejection. All they want is you. Best to crush their feelings into the dust.
3 - Humiliation. Take away their pride.
4 - Punishment. They've done wrong. Time to let them know exactly how.
5 - Revenge. They've hurt you personally, and you want to hurt them back.
6 - Deception. Use the truth, or a lie, to make them hurt.
7 - OTHER.

THE HEAVY:
1 - Beating (hard). Draw blood, leave scars.
2 - Whipping. As hard as you want.
3 - Choking. The hard side of breathplay.
4 - Burning/Branding. Leave your marks.
5 - Fisting. The whole hand.
6 - Oversize Penetration. Double, triple, or just larger than they can take.
7 - Mutilation.
8 - Amputation.
9 - Vore.
10 - Guro.
11 - Non-con. They don't want it, but you'll force the issue.
12 - OTHER.

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[Loki allows Balthazar to lean against him, and gives him a moment to get his breath back after the first. He almost doesn't, at first. He almost goes one right after the other, to break them all quickly, the better to spare Balthazar as much of the anticipation of pain as possible even if the other man was inviting the reality. After all, even if the angel had broken all of Loki's fingers before, he'd made sure to do it as quickly and neatly as humanly possible.

Reciprocity doesn't always have to work against them, after all.

Loki smiles, faint and even a little sad, at the gratitude. The fact that he knows Balthazar means it wholeheartedly only makes his chest ache all the worse, like shards of ice in his heart. All he says out loud in reply, however, is:] Remember to breathe.

[It's a very gentle order, but it's an order all the same.

He doesn't hurry to break the other four, though he's sure to commit the actual act as quickly and cleanly as possible anyway. Still, it's a process that's almost...tidal. Giving the pain time to wash out before more flows back in.

Loki lets out his breath in a slow, steady sigh as the snap of Balthazar's thumb breaking dies away between them. In a soft murmur, he speaks for the first time in four broken bones.] There. Done.

[It really is different this time. He doesn't have to watch Loki's face to sense the different demeanor. No rage this time, only calm control, and as much gentleness as anyone could muster while breaking bones.

Balthazar whimpers and groans at the breaks, and gives a single soft yelp at the last snap of his thumb. He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, and blinks back tears once. But he doesn't scream, and when it's over, he bows his head against Loki again with a ragged sigh.]

Done. [He echoes, against the other man's shoulder, and nods.]

If...that's enough for you for now, it's enough for me. [He looks up again slowly, unsteady but with a faint, wan smile. Balthazar looks drained, shaky, even pale, but the aura of contentment hasn't left him.] It does feel strangely safe, though. Trusting you with this.

Are you all right?

[As Balthazar slumps against him, Loki lifts a hand for a moment to press gently against the back of his head, reassuring. He also tries not to look as relieved as he feels, at the admission that this is finally enough.

Perverse circumstances aside, he feels his heart flutter in a decidedly pleasant fashion at the look on Balthazar's face - pained, broken down, but content, affectionate.

Maybe they really did need this, and it's a thought he celebrates by brushing a kiss over Balthazar's lips.] I'm all right. You did very well. [He seems to enjoy the praise, and Loki is more than happy to give it.]

It's enough, if you've gotten what you need. [And he's faintly but pleasantly surprised to realize that it is enough. Loki hadn't realized it before, but now there's the very definite sense of having...passed through something and come out the other side, unharmed.] But we should still set these before I break the circle.

[All the same, he retrieves the key from his pocket and moves to unlock the cuffs.

[Once again, the reassuring touch feels exquisite, almost decadent. Partly the contrast between pain and gentleness, perhaps, and partly that Balthazar can feel, for once, like he's earned the affection. He moans softly into the kiss, passive but savoring it.

The praise makes him break into a grin, unsteady but wholehearted.] Thank you.

I'm...I'm good. It's enough. And you're lovely. [He holds his hands steady to let the cuffs be unlocked.]

How long were we at this? I lost track. [Sooner or later, Loki might want to have lunch or dinner, he imagines, but Balthazar is hoping some rest and contact is in order first. Maybe even reading together, quietly.]

[Loki unlocks one cuff, and then the other. He sets them aside, and then gently cradles Balthazar's wrist in both of his, massaging lightly to ensure that blood flow resumes as painlessly as possible. First one, and then the other.]

I don't know. [Loki even sounds faintly surprised to have realized as much. Fortunately, there's a clock on the living room wall, though he has to crane his neck a little to see it from where he's at.] Hm...six hours, perhaps. Or eighteen, I suppose. [Probably six, though.]

First thing's first. [With a touch of fond exasperation, Loki adds:] And there's no need to stand on ceremony. I certainly won't be offended if you aren't quiet.

[Before, he might have - if not offended, then certainly upset. But Balthazar isn't the only one who feels empty, and pleasantly so. For perhaps the first time in years, Loki feels as though he might actually have vented his pent-up sadism and rage.

At least for now.

And with that, he moves up to take the first broken finger and work it straight, and back into its joint.]

Edited 2015-03-01 22:42 (UTC)

Time flies when you're having fun? [He smirks a little; this isn't what most people would define as fun. Actually, it's not what he would necessarily define as fun, either, but the sentiment isn't inaccurate. It's been an experience he wouldn't trade, for certain.

He shivers and sighs at the gentle wrist massage, even though it makes his fingers throb.] I thought it might make it easier if I were a bit more stoic. But I'll take your word for it; it does hurt.

[Loki looks more like himself now, with that expression of friendly irritation, and Balthazar smiles, about to call him out on it. Before the words pull together, though, he's pulling and manipulating the bones, and the angel gives an undignified yelp of surprised pain. Damn it all, in some ways that actually hurts more than the initial break.

Suddenly it occurs to him that healing the long way is something he's never experienced, either.] Ow...is it supposed to click and grind like that?

[At least he has the discipline to stay still and not throw everything out of joint again.]

Yes.

[Balthazar can take his word for it. After all:] That's how it felt when you set mine, after all. [And that hadn't even been the first time he's had his fingers broken, because in a lot of ways Loki is very easy to read. At least in so far as what can make him helpless.

[At least he has the discipline to stay still. Loki is still stronger than him, and not above pinning the angel if that's what it takes to get this done.

He works the second finger, and then the third, both back into place, before Loki finds the words to ask something that's been on his mind since Balthazar mentioned it, even if Loki didn't entirely realize as much at the time.] You said before that you didn't..."know". And now you do.

I'm not sure I understood what you meant.

Mmm. [He grimaces, but refrains from further complaint, taking a few deep breaths to force himself to relax again. He's not sure, in point of fact, how the bones would react if they just broke the circle. Normally if a bone on his vessel snaps (a rare occurrence), setting it is a non-issue simply because of the speed it heals. Almost as if a mix of angelic Grace and human body memory pushes things back into their proper places.

This venture has left flesh and bone time to swell and become inflamed, though. They might very well heal crooked without this intervention, and he doesn't want to take that chance. Not when Loki's being so generous with caring for him.

He hisses and swears under his breath as the other bones are set, but manages to stay still.]

What you see isn't technically my body. [He explains slowly after Loki speaks.] It's a human vessel I inhabit. Taken with permission, and...regrettably, the soul that was once within it went on to the afterlife after Cas--

[He pauses, clears his throat. It's still a sore point and probably always will be.] After I was stabbed. I kept a sliver of my Grace hidden in another human's soul and was able to rebuild, but this still isn't completely me.

Angels can't walk about on this plane in our own bodies without searing the eyes out of humans, or even killing them, along with wildlife and plant species. Everything is so delicate. Or we're just clumsy, maybe.

What I am, here and now, is a weird blend of flesh and celestial energy. I can feel pain and pleasure through this body, but when my Grace isn't dampened like this, it's...less sensitive, I suppose. And I'm stronger.

So, I've been sliced and diced, had things broken and even blown to bits on the field at War, but compared to this it was more like an echo of pain coming down a long tunnel, with plenty of interference along the way. I didn't know.

I hope that doesn't sound insufferably smug to you. I don't mean it that way, and of course you're no more human, or mortal, than I am. But you're all here. Everything that happens here is high stakes. I knew that in an academic sense, but I never understood it before. Not from experience.

I'm sorry. [He tries to meet his eyes, still calm, but utterly sincere in the apology.] I truly did not understand the physical suffering you went through. And I...suppose I still don't, but I have a better inkling now.

[Loki sits back to listen to Balthazar's explanation. He has the dim sense that he probably knew some of this already. When you were one another's only company in the face of unholy torment, it was easy to plumb at least some previously sensitive topics of conversation. But it's still better, hearing it again, hearing it now. Here he can be certain that it's the entire truth, and that he's being trusted with this knowledge for reasons beyond carelessness.

He doesn't say it out loud, but Loki is privately relieved to hear that whatever soul previously occupied Balthazar's body is safely elsewhere. Even if he has no way to really confirm as much, it's a more pleasant reality.

Loki draws back a little, blinking in surprise at the apology, especially for how sincere it is. His first impulse is to brush it aside, entirely because he doesn't quite understand what Balthazar is apologizing for. So what if he doesn't "understand" pain? Honestly, Loki can certainly think of worse fates.

Yet it's clear that the apology means a great deal and costs a fair bit for Balthazar to give. And then Loki realizes that his feelings were previously being discounted, brushed aside - innocently, thoughtlessly, but discounted all the same. Even if Loki had ignored as much, Balthazar had apparently still realized it and considered it worth apology.

That...means a great deal, all of a sudden.

So he meets Balthazar's gaze levelly, and replies:] I accept your apology. [And even if the words sound stiff and somewhat formal in his mouth, Loki means them, too.

From there, he'll go to work setting the rest of Balthazar's fingers safely back into place. Maybe they would heal just fine after he broke hte circle, but maybe they wouldn't, and then he'd have to rebreak them in the first place.

Best to be safe.]

Thank you, love. [Balthazar thinks sometimes when Loki's words come out stilted and formal rather than with the usual silvery-sweetness, it's a sign. Emotion, sincerity, startlement. Maybe a little of all the above. At any rate, it's clear his own admission has been understood and accepted--icing on the cake of what they've accomplished tonight--so he smiles, and says no more.

He stays still even after all the bones are set, not sure what will happen if he tries to move, but judging that they've all been well repaired. That says something about Loki's experiences with this sort of thing, and Balthazar's not sure he wants to probe into that too closely. The idea of him having to perform these repairs on himself is painful, but likely.

Patiently, he waits for Loki to decide when to break the circle, bracing himself for the influx of power.] I may glow a bit, when you smudge the lines. You might not want to look too closely.

[Not that he anticipates enough of a rush of energy to actually hurt Loki, or even the surroundings (maybe a bit of scuffing on the nice hardwood floor), but better to warn him than cause him undue distress.]

[Loki nods his acknowledgement of the warning, and turns his back for the sake of breaking the circle. The returning force of Balthazar's grace probably won't be enough to cause harm, not when it's only been suppressed rather than lost. On the other hand, Loki has been on the wrong side of the angel's essence before, and is not remotely eager to repeat the experience. Better safe than sorry. Better to do everything they can to avoid unpleasant flashbacks, after ending this little escapade on more-or-less a high note.

He reaches out a foot towards the chalk lines, pauses, and counts down for both of them:] One, two, three.

[With that, he smudges a segment of the circle into illegibility, and Loki can feel the circle break like an almost tangible thing. He can certainly feel the rush of power swell and build back into life, embers whipped back into burning, and even now he shudders a little on an instinctive level at the memory of that heat.

But, leaving Balthazar to finish pulling himself back together, Loki gets to his feet and steps outside the circle, only glancing back after he's sure it's over to check on the other man.]

[That fire is another thing they may have to deal with, in time, at least in the sense of examining, discussing, and possibly screaming at one another. Balthazar can't change what he's made of any more than Loki can, of course, but they'll have to build a bridge, or find somewhere to meet in the middle.

But not tonight. He's definitely ready to end this on an upnote.

The power surges back in with a rustling sound and a distant ring, like an echo of Balthazar's true voice. Still, it's all over quite quickly, and the angel is rising gingerly when Loki looks back, prodding the place on his leg where the stab wound was, but is no longer.

Everything is in working order, if still a bit smudged with blood. Interestingly, the edges of chalk behind the angel look like they've been gone over with a giant broom--or a pair of wings.

He glances up to meet Loki's eyes, and pads closer, offering his now-healed hands.] Can I make you tea? I want to do something for you.

...And then rest.

[Loki's eyes widen in visible surprise as Balthazar rises, visibly healed and unharmed. He's less surprised at the sign of the wings - Loki knows they're there, has even come up with a few theories on how to "reach" them on whatever alternative plane they currently occupy. But he knows for a fact that he's good at hurting people, even if it's a skill he doesn't always enjoy making use of.

You wouldn't know it to look at the angel now.

His surprise is such that it takes him a second to realize what's just been said. Then he's forced to give himself a little shake to return to reality. But after that, Loki takes Balthazar's hands - somewhat hesitantly, as he's not entirely convinced they're as healed as they look - and allows himself to be helped up to his feet.]

I'm all right. [He is, mostly. Just not entirely sure he's ready to dial back enough to let Balthazar do anything for him. In fact, the sense of finality, of done, leaves Loki feeling almost a little shaky.] I would rather rest, if you don't mind.

["Together" goes unspoken, but hopefully implied.]

[For what it's worth, Balthazar's body language is still suggestive of weariness and delicacy. He's not sore exactly, but part of him still feels he should be, so he'll be a bit cautious for a few hours. He's not sure what to make of Loki's surprise, so he stills, giving him a moment to recover and think it over before clasping his hands gently, and pulling him up as much as he'll allow.]

No tea? [He gives a faint mock-pout, but that's all the needling he'll be doing. It's actually a challenge for him, interacting with Loki like this: he's given to extravagant gestures to show his affection. Doing things. Giving things. Pushing.

That doesn't work so well with Loki, particularly not when he needs space. So Balthazar worries his lip a moment, pushing his own impulses aside, and concludes tea is unnecessary, anyway.] Actually...so would I, I think. Bed or couch?

[And he gently brushes Loki's hair with the backs of his fingers.]

Bed. [Loki answers without hesitation, as he lets his eyes half-close and his head tilt, slightly but visibly, into Balthazar's touch. He is...very tired, if not necessarily physically, then certainly emotionally. More than he's let himself be in a while. He feels a stab of guilt at being difficult, at refusing the angel, but not quite enough to outweigh the tiredness.

Once they're both settled in bed together, curled up close and comfortable, he might try reading something quietly, just to settle his mind. It works, maybe a little too well, to the point that Loki drifts off quietly into a rare bout of peaceful sleep.

Though having Balthazar close by has helped bring such occasions about more and more, over the past few weeks. Either way, they're probably due for a few days of quiet, of what's come to pass for "business as usual", before taking the next steps of turning the tables.]

[Guilt isn't necessary. If time to wind down is what Loki really needs, Balthazar can hardly fault him for it. And once they're settled under the covers, with Balthazar sneakily tucking an arm around his lover, he's got nothing to complain about.

Balthazar theoretically shouldn't need to sleep as often as he does. That he does at all is a testament to how their captivity affected him. Tonight, he's just staring meditatively at the ceiling for long after Loki drifts off, but before dawn, he, too, is out. It's more than refreshing.

Over the next few days, he's eager to please, if slightly more circumspect than usual about treading on Loki's personal space. He makes efforts to coax him into activities they both like--books, parks, museums, and the luxury of touch and lovemaking--and privately turns over the event in his mind, as well as the conversation regarding Loki's desires to experience something similar.

He also makes a point of telling Loki he has no wish to restrict his comings and goings, despite Balthazar's own insecurities. He's free to step out, and if the angel frets a bit while he's alone, he'll get over it as soon as his friend returns.

It's about a week before he broaches the topic of catharsis again, this time as they lie in bed once more, Balthazar with his romance novel, Loki with something presumably more cerebral.]

I could get candles easily enough, and rope. [He murmurs as he flips a page, deceptively casual.] It seems to me a circle on the floor wouldn't be necessary for you. The bed might be more comfortable, or at least the dining table with a blanket thrown over it. What do you think?

[Over the next few days, Loki has the sense of something uncoiling that had previously been knotted a little too tight, of some rough edges smoothing down. He lets himself be coaxed, usually with a smile and a tease. Yet he also finds it easier in the meantime to permit himself to take pleasure once more in the simple act of company, of going out, of touch. There is one day where he finds himself seized with the urge to go elsewhere once more, but more for the sake of proving to himself that he'll come back. And he does.

Yet all the while, in the back of his mind he turns over the possibility of where to go from here, of what it might be like to be the one willingly bound and helpless.

So when Balthazar does finally broach the subject, it's more an inevitability than a surprise. Loki only looks up for a moment from his book before looking down to finish his page.]

I would hate to have to replace the table if we got out of hand.

The floor will be fine. On the rug, perhaps.

[The angel gives a faint sputter of amusement, setting his novel aside on the nightstand.] Well, now I'm intimidated. I wasn't planning on hitting you hard enough to break the table. I think it's solid oak.

[He leans back, sobering only a little. It's not that he's not taking this venture seriously, but at the moment they're warm and comfortable and relaxed, and can afford a gentle tease.] But, certainly, if the rug suits you, it wouldn't be as far to fall in the event of a disaster.

I was going to leave out the ritual circle, but do you want your own powers at all dampened? Or is that too much? [The right letters painted or cut into the restraints would do it, he thinks, although he's not an expert on Loki's abilities. But if Loki does want that kind of restriction, he'll probably collaborate anyway.]

And...I was thinking tomorrow. After breakfast?

[With a long-suffering sort of air that's just a little too deliberate to be entirely serious, Loki marks his place in his book and sets it on top of Balthazar. Then, meeting his expression with one of carefully practiced innocence, he replies:] What we plan for and what occur don't always align, now do they?

[They're warm and comfortable and relaxed, and he enjoys bantering back and forth with the angel even under circumstances much worse than this.

Then, with the air of a cat comandeering a sunbeam, he presses nearer to Balthazar, draping an arm with affectionate possessiveness over his waist and hooking a leg over his. But despite his languid air, his tone is perfectly serious as he replies, without hesitation:] Too much. I assure you, I feel pain almost as well as any mortal. [His illusions certainly won't do a bit to help with that.]

And tomorrow will be fine. I suppose this isn't something that should be attempted on an empty stomach, after all.

[Balthazar watches, lips quirked and half parted, as if he's treading the line between laughter and preparing for a witty retort. And it strikes him, suddenly, how weirdly, pleasantly domestic and natural this feels, as if they were actually created to spend quiet time reading in bed like this, at least part of the time.

The slide into smug, possessive cuddling just enhances that impression, and despite the serious undertone creeping in, the angel gives a contented little sigh and curls around Loki lightly in return.] Duly noted. We'll skip it, then. Yes, I think a light breakfast would do wonders for both my endurance and yours. And I'll pick up the last things we'll need afterward.

[It will give them time, once more, to mentally prepare and calm themselves.

Bur for now...toying with the ends of the other man's hair, he smiles.] Mmm. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably... Other than binding and gagging and heat, what is it you'd like from me?

[Loki opens one eye to regard Balthazar almost incredulously, before replying:] It appears not in this confession: there's not one wise man among twenty that will praise himself. [Shakespeare is one element of human culture that he embraced with remarkable swiftness.

Beyond that, Loki lets out an equally contented hum at the feeling of the fingers in his hair, letting both eyes fall closed for a moment longer. He's started keeping his hair short again - one thing Balthazar might have noticed is that how long he lets his hair get is actually a reasonably good indication of how bad Loki's mental state is. But after a moment, moving carefully so as not to shift the angel's hand, he pushes himself up on his elbows just enough to look the other man in the eye.] Mm. Hit me, cut me, speak to me. [Because Balthazar has proven quite thoroughly how much damage his words can do.] Take me apart [Loki has a very definite idea what he wants the end result to be, but not quite enough self-awareness to have any definite idea of how to get there.

With an apologetic sort of half-smile, he adds:] I'm afraid I'm not entirely certain what I'd like. I have far less experience in these matters than you seem to. [Not to mention a few hangups about sex in general. It's probably only to be expected, when possessed of Loki's corrosive self-loathing. Balthazar is the exception that's proven the rule, so far.]

I can tell you what I don't want, and you can work from there. [Even now, maybe even especially now, he trusts the angel that much.]

[He can't help but laugh at the quick response. What's not to like about Shakespeare? Pretty words, terrible puns, and a nice mix of lowbrow comic relief tossed in to season the epic tragedy and high romance. It's very much to the angel's taste, as well.

He sort of regrets the reduction in the length of Loki's hair, but he has noticed the shorter it gets the more content his friend seems to be. So, well enough, and at any rate the outer layer, attractive as it is, is not the main thing that draws him to Loki. What that draw is, is something he's not quite able to put into words, but the past weeks have established it's more than shared suffering and similar brokenness.]

Speak to you, hm? That's probably where I need most to know what you don't want. [He meets the gaze, gently searching.] You know I'm capable of throwing tact to the winds. And you truly won't be able to defend yourself verbally with a gag on.

Which means we'll need signals, as well. I have ideas there.

[Loki replies in a drawl.] I'm aware. [Or at least, god, he hopes he's aware. He hopes some of their more biting exchanges in the past are at least close to the extent of Balthazar's abilities to verbally eviscerate him.

More gently, but just as seriously, he adds:] That's the point. [Loki is good at verbally defending himself. Maybe too good. He's started to wonder, especially after their last session, if he's even capable of not.

He's started to wonder if that's necessarily a good thing. It's unpleasant, hearing some of the things Balthazar can say to him. But sometimes it's unpleasant in the sense that bleeding out poison is unpleasant.] But if you have ideas, by all means share them. I'm listening.

[After a beat, he adds, in something of a rush:] Something else I forgot, by the way. No blindfolding. [Loki has definite hangups about the dark.]

[That remains to be seen. Balthazar likes to think of himself as a teller of difficult truths, but he's also aware he's kind of a dick. And yet, with only a couple incidents excepted, he's tried to be on good behavior with Loki.

But you really can't take someone apart while being on best behavior.]

I can get a cricket-clicker on a band. You can press it for 'red'. I'll have your hands in front of you anyway, so I can see if you drop it or can't reach it to make it sound. But with you gagged, it all feels a bit riskier to me. I'll touch your hands periodically, I think, and ask you to squeeze back if you're all right, or try to push me away if you're not.

And pushing away will mean I'll ease off, but not stop altogether. Does that sound reasonable?

[Since the last time they tried this, things got very intense, quite abruptly. Some minor adjustments in their approach can't hurt.

His fingertips curl against the shorter locks at the back of Loki's neck.] I don't like the idea of a blindfold with a gag, anyway. I need your expressions for feedback when you're not talking. But I do understand. No blindfold. No darkness.

[He gives him what's meant to be a reassuring caress, changing the subject for comfort's sake.] On that note, do you have a preference for gag type? Some of them just look silly to me. I was thinking a panel or a simple bit.

Yes, that sounds reasonable. [Very reasonable, in fact. Loki had been prepared to take risks, to leave some things to chance if need be. He usually is. But it's...good, in a way that's still a bit unfamiliar, to know that they might not necessarily need to. He relaxes just a bit, but it was a bit that he hadn't known until then that he needed.

With the discussion apparently going well, Loki rests his head against Balthazar's chest once more, with a soft exhale of relief.] No blindfolds. No darkness. ["Thank you." He does understand.]

And you're right. Some of them look desperately ridiculous, in fact. Panel will be fine.

[After a cautious pause during which Loki thinks on what he's about to say next very carefully, he ventures:] You're free to ease off as well, of course. On your own initiative. If there comes a point where you honestly think you need to. [It's a slight step, acknowledging that Balthazar does have limits, does have points that he might be unable to cross without actively harming himself. But it's progress, perhaps.]