bakerstreet | them sexts

I don't know.

[He does, but with these new revelations, he no longer plans on mentioning Almyra.]

That's very vague.
I guess I can tell you one thing.
Dirty talk might be interesting.

[There- something that genuinely interests him, but isn't dangerous or painful.]

Of course. Which of came to the other, desperate to negotiate? I see no reason to barter with you.

Is that not what we've been doing all this time?

You shouldn't be too quick to dismiss the value of bargaining, even now.

[He may have nothing to physically offer than Aurelien can't simply seize, but if Aurelien is interested in his body, there might be something left for him to work with.

He has to try, at the very least.]

YOU have been, yes.
If I feel motivated enough, I can too.
Please, Sir. I'm so sorry. I need you to punish me... I touched myself thinking about choking on your huge cock.

[ You will be, he thinks, but he doesn't get so far as setting the words to writing. He can't deny the shiver that runs through the limbs with the image—Claude defeated, and trembling, and begging—so best not to address it so directly.

Still, he can't ignore Claude's words entirely. That would make his reaction just as obvious as a panting demand for more. His tongue darts along his lips as he considers a reply. ]

That wasn't bad -- but it will be even better when you really mean it.

[ Maybe he should allow himself to slip into the fantasy. So long as he does so knowingly, he won't be giving Claude any power over him. But... There is another question that niggles at him, in the back of his mind. ]

How many people have you slept with, before now?

[He doesn't want to imagine what it would be like to really mean it. Fantasies and experience are two separate things entirely, and the latter is completely out of his knowledge range.

He's good at faking it, to make himself seem more worldly. Now? There's no point at all in pursuing that strategy.]

None. I'm too busy for that sort of thing. Or, I was.

[ That answer doesn't surprise him, but it isn't expected, either. He supposes this must be the first time he has indulged in this sort of talk as more than just a fantasy; Aurelien wonders if those words were chosen wholly to excite his own passions, or if they might speak to more of Claude's desires than he would like. ]

Don't worry. I'll claim all of you very thoroughly. Your skin will be drenched in me -- in bruises and bites, in scratch-marks and handprints where I've beaten you red. I'll fill both your holes -- first your mouth, and then your ass -- until your entire world becomes how stretched you feel with me. And I'll even lavish your cute cock in my attention... You'll know the taste of my fingers and tongue as I tease your every weakness and vulnerability from your clever mouth, whether you want it or not.

But I won't allow you to come. Not until I'm through with you. You'll be trembling and agonized as I have my way with you, eager to do anything I ask just so that I might finally offer you the chance to come. Maybe I will, eventually. Maybe I'll let you hump my thigh like an animal, if you're good and obedient enough.

[Claude can't believe what he's reading. It's terrifyingly detailed- so explicit that he can easily picture each scene in his mind.

He quickly discovers that his cock isn't concerned with distinguishing real promises from pure fantasy. Aurelien is a gorgeous man, and his words are utterly filthy in all the right ways; he's barely left Derdriu behind, and already he feels like he's riding to his doom.]

Is that what you want? Total obedience? I could fall to my knees and stare up at your with wide, adoring eyes. Beg you to ruin me. What should I call you? Sir? My Lord? Daddy?

Or would it be better if I fought you every step of the way? Gave you the chance to force my surrender just like you wanted? You would have to hold me down on your lap to stop me from squirming and bucking with every hit of your palm.

"Master" has a nice ring to it, wouldn't you say?

But you don't need to give everything away quite so quickly. I'll enjoy breaking you in myself.

[ He doesn't mind brattiness—up to a point. In the end, though, he always wants to be the undisputed conqueror, powerful and victorious. ]

Maybe. That depends on you.

[He's comfortable with acting- he can play the role Aurelien wants if he sees the benefit. He can also try very hard not to play that role.

That all rests on just how hard Aurelien truly plans to go on him.]

Just a reminder- Edelgard isn't going to be pleased with any of that.

And what are you going to do? Tattle to Mom?

[ The question is half-sincere, and so is his dismissiveness. ]

Does that thought make you nervous?

[He would love to threaten Aurelien with his actual Mother, but now he's absolutely certain he won't bring up Almyra unless it's absolutely necessary. He dreads to imagine what his parents would think if they knew about this.]

Not particularly. You see, I try not to concern myself with the consequences of my actions. I have more fun that way.

[ He hopes Claude can feel his cheeky grin over text. ]

[Oh he can feel it. Just another reason among many to make him nervous.]

Are you sure you don't want to come up with a way that we can both have fun? I'm happy to brainstorm ideas.

Would you prefer to hold the whip? I'm not devoid of other playthings -- provided you aren't squeamish about the idea of saving your skin by flaying someone else's.

[ That... has its own appeal. It's different, of course, but not without merit. How low can he force Claude to sink? Will he catch a glimpse of horror in his eyes, as he realizes what depravity he is capable of with a little pushing? As Aurelien considers the possibilities, his breathing quickens. ]

If I was so opposed to self-sacrifice, I wouldn't be on my way to you right now.

[He could probably make himself do something like that if it was somehow necessary, but just to save himself from pain? The idea makes him very uncomfortable. He made this decision, after all; not them.]

You might not care about the consequences of your actions, but I do.

How very virtuous you are.

[ :) ]

In that case, I'm afraid not. If I wanted a poet, I'd hire one better than decent, and I find strategy games terribly dull when I could be indulging in strategy on an actual battlefield.

I'm not saying I'm virtuous. But I'm not a monster.

[Well. At the very least he's managed to scrape together bits and pieces about Aurelien's behavior and preferences. With some time, he should be able to come up with a way or two to manipulate him, and hopefully worm his way out of whatever situation he's getting himself into.]

If you say so. Too bad... you would've liked it much better if I played along.

And you'll like what happens to you much better if you cooperate -- but I know how to make my fun either way.

[ :) :) :) ]

Still, you ought to take the compliment. Edelgard is terribly dedicated to her scruples, as well. It's cute.

Edited 2023-07-04 21:39 (UTC)

Judging by what you've said so far, I'm not sure I believe that.

[Aurelien's idea of 'better' treatment might be just as awful, or worse. He can't rely on anything the man says regarding his interests.]

Cute? Not a word I thought I'd see anyone attach to Edelgard. Or myself, for that matter.

Oh, yes. Self-made martyrs so dedicated to carrying their noble burdens alone are the most adorable people around. So righteous, so fragile... It's like watching a kitten puff up and hiss, ignorant of how easily its little life could be snuffed out.

When you see something like that, don't you just want to bully it until it starts to cry?

[ unfortunately, cuteness aggression immense ]

Edited 2023-07-05 21:26 (UTC)

You don't know what you're talking about.

[And that's definitely for the best. Claude doesn't see himself as a martyr, far from it, but he supposes it might seem that way from Aurelien's point of view.

And he definitely knows how fragile any life can be... his own most of all.]

No. What's the appeal of watching someone cry?

I don't? I suppose you're coming to me for the health benefits, then?

Oh, plenty of things. Tears are the purest distillation I can imagine of a man's powerlessness. His vulnerability. His terror, his helplessness. So many things, and all of them a delight to hold in the palm of your hand.

In a way. You could say that.

I don't know. Crying for the agony of the moment doesn't really add up to all that. You might be overstating it.

If you don't understand it, I can't make you.

[ Alas, he is not deflated by Claude's argument. ]

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