![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maculategiraffeSince I announced that I would happily trade fic for fanart, there have been two lovely posts over at slavebreakers, and though fantasy_1988 has not claimed her winnings for her Lee + Jer drawing, isha_lj knew what she wanted for her drawing of young Yves:
I was hoping for one where Holden trains Yves in orgasm control. So hopefully something with orgasm denial and begging. Not sure if Holden ever *did* that training with Yves, but if he did...
Well... I seem to have written what amounts to the prequel to her scenario instead of the scenario itself. I actually kind of suck at writing begging-type dialogue (I'm no good at it in bed either, as I quickly devolve into dire threats of vengeance), so maybe it's for the best. Hopefully it provides enough of a setup to adequately kindle the imagination on what comes next.
"That was pitiful!"
Yves went even hotter with chagrin than with the orgasm, and looked up at his master pleadingly. He was relieved to see that Holden was laughing, not annoyed, and even more relieved when Holden leaned down to kiss him; he kissed back eagerly until Holden pulled away.
"It's not your fault nobody ever taught you any better," Holden went on, softening the criticism with a caress as well as the words. "But it's weird that you belonged to a woman for two years and didn't learn to control your orgasms."
"I didn't have to," Yves protested. "I mean-- she didn't--"
"Didn't do this?" Holden leaned in further. "Or this-- or--"
"Master, please!" Yves gasped, squirming wildly.
"Hold still or I'll hog-tie you while I finish making my point. That's better. So," said Holden, his lips at Yves' ear, his hands everywhere else, "when you were pumping dutifully away at your dear mistress, you didn't have to try so very hard not to climax?"
"I was just trying to stay hard," Yves managed, and Holden fell onto his back and laughed until he cried.
"Poor Yves," he said finally, wiping at his eyes and sitting back up. "I shouldn't laugh. I should be thanking all the gods that idiot was too boring to realize what a mine of untapped potential she had on top of her. Don't worry, kid. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be able to--" He paused, then looked up, his eyes still bright with laughter. "I'll show you what you'll be able to do. Come here."
Yves flowed willingly into his master's arms, pressed against the warm skin and hard muscle, his cock already hard again. Holden was hard, too, and Yves pushed his groin against his master's, rubbing their two lengths together invitingly.
"You are so fucking hot," said Holden, softly grinding the length of his erection against Yves'. "You know that, right? You feel how hard you make me?"
"Yes," Yves gasped, "yes, yes--"
"Okay," said Holden, and licked Yves' neck. "So make me come."
"How, master?"
"However you want," said Holden. "Give it your best shot."
Yves knew a challenge when he heard one, and he smiled as he pushed closer, wrapping a hand around his master's length; Holden was hard enough already that Yves didn't dilly-dally around long with kisses and stroking before he crawled down the bed and between Holden's legs, setting his mouth to the task. He knew he was good at this-- it had been the first thing his new master had taught him, and a lot of the time since then had been spent on refinements of Yves' technique, some of them picked up from Holden's excellent technique on Yves. He wasn't going to rush it, either; he enjoyed this, the slow build, the salt-sweet taste of precum, the rhythm he built and deliberately broke, swirling slowly with his tongue, feeling the muscles of his master's thighs clench as he played at lazy restraint and then abruptly swallowed the entire shaft to the very back of his throat and suckled as if in desperation.
Holden's balls were tight, and Yves kneaded them, having learned that Holden didn't mind a little roughness on them when he was this aroused; he swallowed a bubble of laughter around his master's erection, remembering how, after repeated admonishments to be less timid and gentle with his master's testicles, Yves had accidentally given them such a hard twist that Holden had yelled out a certain amount of inventive profanity before dragging his cowering slave back into his arms, wincing and apologizing and laughing and forgiving, all at once.
Then Yves fixed his mind back on the task at hand, which was one he was enjoying, even more for the challenge of it; he knew his master was holding back deliberately, but he couldn't hold out too long, not when Yves really got into his stride, which he was doing. He suckled, licked, tightened, pulled back, pushed down, played with Holden's balls like a virtuoso; he took a moment to slick a finger in his mouth and press it up against the puckered opening behind his main objective, then slid it slowly all the way up, feeling his way until he got to the smooth yielding place deep inside, and touched it.
It was a while before he realized he should have paced himself better.
It was another little while after that before Holden said, "Stop."
Yves lifted his head and slid his finger out; Holden was flushed and sweating, grinning triumphantly at Yves.
"Let me keep going," said Yves, unable to keep the answering challenge out of his own voice and face.
"Knock yourself out," said Holden, and then, before Yves could get back to it, "No, wait, here."
He sat up as he spoke, reaching for Yves. It took a minute for Yves to realize what he was doing, and cooperate; Holden was pulling him around, legs first, shifting himself and Yves both over until Yves' weight was on his side on the bed and so was Holden's, their bellies pressed together but their bodies pointing opposite directions, with Yves' legs up around Holden's ears and his head still at the unconquered, naked groin, looking at it from the other side now. Yves' cock was about half erect, but it jumped hard when Holden licked it.
"Keep going," said Holden, "and I'll come when you do."
Yves wrapped his lips around Holden's cock again and reached for his balls, and cried out softly when he felt Holden do the same to him; this was a position he'd never even considered, and he wasn't sure it was a good idea, because it was awfully difficult to concentrate properly on his task while receiving an eye-popping blowjob of his own and hoping he wasn't about to blacken his master's eye with an involuntarily kicking heel. He tried to ignore the sensation of his own rising ecstasy, tried to think only about the hardness in his mouth and the satisfaction if he made Holden come first, but it was no use; Holden was using every trick he knew, everything that had ever made Yves scream in pleasure and incredulity, and Yves finally yelled out and came hard, convulsing against the length of his master's body. Holden, true to his word, came about three seconds later, and Yves, whose teeth had come unsheathed from his lips, nearly choked on the sudden gush.
They lay like that for a while, both panting, before Holden said in tones of deep satisfaction, "I am so fucking good."
"Oh, shut up," said Yves without thinking, and then choked again on horror at himself, and coughed violently, momentarily unable to speak an apology, while Holden yelled with laughter.
"C'mere, you insolent brat," he ordered finally, his voice still full of mirth, and Yves dragged himself back up the bed and laid his head down on his master's damp chest, closing his eyes; Holden reached up a hand to stroke his sweaty curls. "Now if you work hard and apply yourself, someday maybe you'll be almost as good as me."
"Who trained you?" Yves asked, tired and satiated and fuzzy-headed enough not to be as cautious as he normally was about questions like that.
"A tall, dark, sinister stranger," said Holden, still joking, though with a slight edge in his voice now. "But I'm not going to use his methods on you."
"Thank you, master," said Yves meekly, his tone shifting in reponse to the subtle shift in Holden's mood. "May I ask what methods you're going to use?"
"Practice," said Holden, his fingers sliding down Yves' back. "Lots and lots of practice. And your own natural drive for excellence. It's handy that you've got one of those. I don't. I'm just a showoff."
Yves yawned slightly, his eyes still closed. "You're good, master."
"I try," said Holden. "You all tired out for today?"
"No, master," said Yves, and lifted his head, smiling. "I'm ready when you are."
slavebreakers, and though fantasy_1988 has not claimed her winnings for her Lee + Jer drawing, isha_lj knew what she wanted for her drawing of young Yves:I was hoping for one where Holden trains Yves in orgasm control. So hopefully something with orgasm denial and begging. Not sure if Holden ever *did* that training with Yves, but if he did...
Well... I seem to have written what amounts to the prequel to her scenario instead of the scenario itself. I actually kind of suck at writing begging-type dialogue (I'm no good at it in bed either, as I quickly devolve into dire threats of vengeance), so maybe it's for the best. Hopefully it provides enough of a setup to adequately kindle the imagination on what comes next.
"That was pitiful!"
Yves went even hotter with chagrin than with the orgasm, and looked up at his master pleadingly. He was relieved to see that Holden was laughing, not annoyed, and even more relieved when Holden leaned down to kiss him; he kissed back eagerly until Holden pulled away.
"It's not your fault nobody ever taught you any better," Holden went on, softening the criticism with a caress as well as the words. "But it's weird that you belonged to a woman for two years and didn't learn to control your orgasms."
"I didn't have to," Yves protested. "I mean-- she didn't--"
"Didn't do this?" Holden leaned in further. "Or this-- or--"
"Master, please!" Yves gasped, squirming wildly.
"Hold still or I'll hog-tie you while I finish making my point. That's better. So," said Holden, his lips at Yves' ear, his hands everywhere else, "when you were pumping dutifully away at your dear mistress, you didn't have to try so very hard not to climax?"
"I was just trying to stay hard," Yves managed, and Holden fell onto his back and laughed until he cried.
"Poor Yves," he said finally, wiping at his eyes and sitting back up. "I shouldn't laugh. I should be thanking all the gods that idiot was too boring to realize what a mine of untapped potential she had on top of her. Don't worry, kid. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be able to--" He paused, then looked up, his eyes still bright with laughter. "I'll show you what you'll be able to do. Come here."
Yves flowed willingly into his master's arms, pressed against the warm skin and hard muscle, his cock already hard again. Holden was hard, too, and Yves pushed his groin against his master's, rubbing their two lengths together invitingly.
"You are so fucking hot," said Holden, softly grinding the length of his erection against Yves'. "You know that, right? You feel how hard you make me?"
"Yes," Yves gasped, "yes, yes--"
"Okay," said Holden, and licked Yves' neck. "So make me come."
"How, master?"
"However you want," said Holden. "Give it your best shot."
Yves knew a challenge when he heard one, and he smiled as he pushed closer, wrapping a hand around his master's length; Holden was hard enough already that Yves didn't dilly-dally around long with kisses and stroking before he crawled down the bed and between Holden's legs, setting his mouth to the task. He knew he was good at this-- it had been the first thing his new master had taught him, and a lot of the time since then had been spent on refinements of Yves' technique, some of them picked up from Holden's excellent technique on Yves. He wasn't going to rush it, either; he enjoyed this, the slow build, the salt-sweet taste of precum, the rhythm he built and deliberately broke, swirling slowly with his tongue, feeling the muscles of his master's thighs clench as he played at lazy restraint and then abruptly swallowed the entire shaft to the very back of his throat and suckled as if in desperation.
Holden's balls were tight, and Yves kneaded them, having learned that Holden didn't mind a little roughness on them when he was this aroused; he swallowed a bubble of laughter around his master's erection, remembering how, after repeated admonishments to be less timid and gentle with his master's testicles, Yves had accidentally given them such a hard twist that Holden had yelled out a certain amount of inventive profanity before dragging his cowering slave back into his arms, wincing and apologizing and laughing and forgiving, all at once.
Then Yves fixed his mind back on the task at hand, which was one he was enjoying, even more for the challenge of it; he knew his master was holding back deliberately, but he couldn't hold out too long, not when Yves really got into his stride, which he was doing. He suckled, licked, tightened, pulled back, pushed down, played with Holden's balls like a virtuoso; he took a moment to slick a finger in his mouth and press it up against the puckered opening behind his main objective, then slid it slowly all the way up, feeling his way until he got to the smooth yielding place deep inside, and touched it.
It was a while before he realized he should have paced himself better.
It was another little while after that before Holden said, "Stop."
Yves lifted his head and slid his finger out; Holden was flushed and sweating, grinning triumphantly at Yves.
"Let me keep going," said Yves, unable to keep the answering challenge out of his own voice and face.
"Knock yourself out," said Holden, and then, before Yves could get back to it, "No, wait, here."
He sat up as he spoke, reaching for Yves. It took a minute for Yves to realize what he was doing, and cooperate; Holden was pulling him around, legs first, shifting himself and Yves both over until Yves' weight was on his side on the bed and so was Holden's, their bellies pressed together but their bodies pointing opposite directions, with Yves' legs up around Holden's ears and his head still at the unconquered, naked groin, looking at it from the other side now. Yves' cock was about half erect, but it jumped hard when Holden licked it.
"Keep going," said Holden, "and I'll come when you do."
Yves wrapped his lips around Holden's cock again and reached for his balls, and cried out softly when he felt Holden do the same to him; this was a position he'd never even considered, and he wasn't sure it was a good idea, because it was awfully difficult to concentrate properly on his task while receiving an eye-popping blowjob of his own and hoping he wasn't about to blacken his master's eye with an involuntarily kicking heel. He tried to ignore the sensation of his own rising ecstasy, tried to think only about the hardness in his mouth and the satisfaction if he made Holden come first, but it was no use; Holden was using every trick he knew, everything that had ever made Yves scream in pleasure and incredulity, and Yves finally yelled out and came hard, convulsing against the length of his master's body. Holden, true to his word, came about three seconds later, and Yves, whose teeth had come unsheathed from his lips, nearly choked on the sudden gush.
They lay like that for a while, both panting, before Holden said in tones of deep satisfaction, "I am so fucking good."
"Oh, shut up," said Yves without thinking, and then choked again on horror at himself, and coughed violently, momentarily unable to speak an apology, while Holden yelled with laughter.
"C'mere, you insolent brat," he ordered finally, his voice still full of mirth, and Yves dragged himself back up the bed and laid his head down on his master's damp chest, closing his eyes; Holden reached up a hand to stroke his sweaty curls. "Now if you work hard and apply yourself, someday maybe you'll be almost as good as me."
"Who trained you?" Yves asked, tired and satiated and fuzzy-headed enough not to be as cautious as he normally was about questions like that.
"A tall, dark, sinister stranger," said Holden, still joking, though with a slight edge in his voice now. "But I'm not going to use his methods on you."
"Thank you, master," said Yves meekly, his tone shifting in reponse to the subtle shift in Holden's mood. "May I ask what methods you're going to use?"
"Practice," said Holden, his fingers sliding down Yves' back. "Lots and lots of practice. And your own natural drive for excellence. It's handy that you've got one of those. I don't. I'm just a showoff."
Yves yawned slightly, his eyes still closed. "You're good, master."
"I try," said Holden. "You all tired out for today?"
"No, master," said Yves, and lifted his head, smiling. "I'm ready when you are."
