Lucifer Morningstar (
my_own_advocate) wrote2022-07-17 07:09 pm
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Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night
There were plans to open the club - finally - and plans to go to Austria for a few days to see an opera - exciting - and Octavia had been doing better recently, so... Lucifer was in a good mood, actually, when Sunday came around.
So yes, the candles were out again tonight. And a rather imposing spread of seafood, picked up from the mainland. With mango rice, of course.
It was Octavia. Couldn't do without the mango rice.
"How do you feel about the snapper?"
[[ for her ]]
So yes, the candles were out again tonight. And a rather imposing spread of seafood, picked up from the mainland. With mango rice, of course.
It was Octavia. Couldn't do without the mango rice.
"How do you feel about the snapper?"
[[ for her ]]
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To suck on them, her tongue moving around them to make sure she got it all.
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After he felt a third swipe of her tongue, Lucifer pulled his hand back.
"You counted so well last time," he mused. "Ten."
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"Ten," she murmured, with a nod. To say she knew what was expected of her.
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Then his hand came down her left cheek, still firmly over her trousers. It was a firm strike.
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But also: "One."
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He remained silent. The second strike was just as sure, and just as harsh.
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She wondered, faintly, how little the fabric seemed to do to soften the blows.
"Two."
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But he didn't let up, delivering one strike, then another. Counting up to five in his own head. Wondering how red her skin looked, under the fabric.
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It felt red.
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Another curse slipped out before she managed the forceful "Six."
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"Seven. Eight. Nine."
Sensations blended into one.
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The only difference was that he pulled away his hand afterward.
That the sound of his zipper was audible.
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And then -- his hand was gone. And both sides of her ass ached, and there was that sound.
She forgot to breathe.
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Wishing for thinner layers of fabric -- no, thicker -- no, none at all...
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Want/dread.
Want/dread --
Was Octavia supposed to be able to answer that? Because Octavia did not seem to be able to answer that, even after swallowing, even after parting her lips as if words were about to come out.
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He sat back. Just a bit.
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Because she would have preferred to keep hiding her face.
But she turned the entire way around, still on all fours. Still with her eyes cast down towards the mattress.
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The flat authority belied how much he was trying to gauge her mental state right now. How far to go.
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It probably didn't clear up much. She had that slightly wide-eyed look about her, something uncertain and small about her expression.
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