By Sprat: "Obedience"
Oct. 25th, 2004 04:30 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
sprat.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionHello, um, again. Bored at work, in desperate need of amusement. Another tiny fic for the Dog's Life Challenge, completely un-beta'ed because, well...I was a little afraid to ask anyone to beta this, honestly. Call it 400 words, NC-17 for all-around weirdness (though NOT bestiality-type weirdness, I promise :) ).
We begin with the collar. It is leather, not new, perhaps a half-inch wide all the way around. The buckle is metal, and slightly larger than the rest. When it is fastened against my neck, it chafes me. You do this to me. Though these are my fingers pulling the leather snug, fitting the steel pin through the hole, it is the rough competence of your hands that I feel against my skin. I imagine you tilting my chin up, yanking the whole assemblage around 'til the o-ring faces front. "Good boy," you tell me then, "Sit." And I do.
What comes next is the leash. It is a fine, strong chain of linked steel; with it clasped onto my collar I am helpless to go anywhere except with you. In my mind, you caress it a little before you clip it on. Your tongue emerges to lick your lower lip. Your eyes are distant and pleased. I shiver when the clasp clicks into place, but I know better than to move without permission. I wait, watching you in my mind's eye, and I am rewarded with a rare, indulgent smile. "Good boy," you say again, and I close my eyes at the imagined touch of your fingers in my hair, scratching me with hard affection.
This is almost enough: I hear my breath hitch in the silence of my darkened rooms. Squeeze my eyes so tightly closed I see tiny points of light against the lids. In the fantasy, your hand has moved lower, your knuckles rubbing the naked skin of my back. My excitement overwhelms me and I forget myself, presuming to push my head against your thigh. You chuckle, low and reproving, and your hand leaves my back with some reluctance. "Ren," you say gently, "Don't be naughty." And oh, oh, I am sorry.
We begin with the collar. It is leather, not new, perhaps a half-inch wide all the way around. The buckle is metal, and slightly larger than the rest. When it is fastened against my neck, it chafes me. You do this to me. Though these are my fingers pulling the leather snug, fitting the steel pin through the hole, it is the rough competence of your hands that I feel against my skin. I imagine you tilting my chin up, yanking the whole assemblage around 'til the o-ring faces front. "Good boy," you tell me then, "Sit." And I do.
What comes next is the leash. It is a fine, strong chain of linked steel; with it clasped onto my collar I am helpless to go anywhere except with you. In my mind, you caress it a little before you clip it on. Your tongue emerges to lick your lower lip. Your eyes are distant and pleased. I shiver when the clasp clicks into place, but I know better than to move without permission. I wait, watching you in my mind's eye, and I am rewarded with a rare, indulgent smile. "Good boy," you say again, and I close my eyes at the imagined touch of your fingers in my hair, scratching me with hard affection.
This is almost enough: I hear my breath hitch in the silence of my darkened rooms. Squeeze my eyes so tightly closed I see tiny points of light against the lids. In the fantasy, your hand has moved lower, your knuckles rubbing the naked skin of my back. My excitement overwhelms me and I forget myself, presuming to push my head against your thigh. You chuckle, low and reproving, and your hand leaves my back with some reluctance. "Ren," you say gently, "Don't be naughty." And oh, oh, I am sorry.
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Date: 2004-10-25 04:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-25 05:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-25 05:10 pm (UTC)Mmmmm... Turnbull kink.
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Date: 2004-10-25 05:52 pm (UTC)Oh, and thanks! :)
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Date: 2004-10-25 06:13 pm (UTC)::fans self with copy of Screw the Roses, Send Me the Thorns::
Proof that I'll read any pairing if the right writer chains me up with it...
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Date: 2004-10-26 07:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-26 03:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-26 09:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-26 03:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-26 04:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-26 05:23 pm (UTC)I think now I will go read them again. Purely for the sake of argument, you understand. :)
Oh, of course. Uh-huh. Yep.
Riiiiiight.
;-)
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Date: 2004-10-26 05:25 pm (UTC)::runs away::)
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Date: 2004-10-26 08:07 pm (UTC)::shakes head sadly::
:)
::snerk::
Date: 2004-10-26 08:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-25 06:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-26 09:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-26 09:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-25 07:31 pm (UTC)I'm going to go take a cold shower.
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Date: 2004-10-26 09:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-08 05:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-08 10:08 am (UTC)