Inbox: Golden Peacock

[philancer]

@philancer

▶ TEXT

▶ AUDIO

▶ VIDEO

▶ ACTION

OPEN SEASON

@philancer
25 / male / yes / 7♦️

About Photos Questions Personality Compatibility

Details

My Self-Summary

Back home, I'm a noble, the son of a Margrave, but for most of my life I've been a knight and a soldier. I'm mostly just looking for a good time and people who are open-minded enough to enjoy it with me, maybe try out some new things. There's a lot here I've never gotten to experience and I'm interested in changing that.



Outside of that, I'm a connoisseur of fine food and fine teas. I enjoy cooking, gardening, horseback riding, chess, and discussing a wide variety of topics, whether it's art, fiction, theoretical ideals, or more esoteric topics.

My Future Plans

Enjoying myself to the fullest here. Making conections and meeting new people. Experiencing all this place has to offer and finding those interested in exploring it with me.

My Talents

Varied and many. I had a robust interest in pursuing pleasures of all sorts back home and I hope to keep expanding that knowledge and skillset here.

Favorite Books, Movies, Music, and Food

I enjoy books on a variety of topics, but I've never seen a movie. Plays and operas are far more common in my world and a comparible form of entertainment. I like a wide variety of dishes and have a fondness for trying new dishes from distant places. I have a fondness for spices and rich flavors.

My Ideal Partner

I'm very adaptable and tend to adjust to whoever I'm with, making this a very broad category, since I have a varied taste in companions as well, depending on my mood. I find people interesting and like as many varieties here as I do in my favorite dishes.

Height 6'1 Body Type broad and muscular Smokes only when casting fire spells Drinks yes Drugs only healer prescribed Sign ...Gemini? Apparently?? Education Garreg Mach Officer's Academy Occupation Noble Paladin Income ... Children dear goddess no Pets Felix Horses Hobbies Reading, cooking, chess, tea, horseback riding, hiking. not dying.

art credit: one. two. three. four. five.

01. WINE OR BEER

both, depends on the atmosphere

.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES

neither

.03 SHOWER OR BATH

yes

.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS

what does this even mean??? and what's a nija?

.05 TITS OR ASS

yes

.06 COFFEE OR TEA

tea, although coffee is interesting, i will have to try more of it

.07 SPICY OR SWEET

spicy

.08 SUMMER OR WINTER

both have their fine qualities

.09 LEATHER OR LACE

depends on who's wearing it. some people are just very much one or the other.

10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX

yes

Personality Type
Campaigner: ENFP-A

ENERGY

79%

Extraverted

MIND

55%

Intuitive

NATURE

61%

Feeling

TACTICS

61%

Prospecting

IDENTITY

61%

Assertive

personality test. art credit.

hover for rating.

Comments

[bardische]

[ Something changes in Basch's face, hardened and serious as he grips Sylvain's jaw. ]

I want to be very clear. I want your cries and your pleas and your beautiful begging-- [ He squeezes the other's cock, leaning in to kiss him hard, to give him a moment of all the stimulation he wants.

And then he draws back, fierce, a white-hot simmering underneath. At whatever has made Sylvain think this would appease. At himself for drawing it out. ]

I do not want your apologies. Ever.

[ This was not a punishment. This was not meant to shame or bully.

His hand makes it through the fastenings and he releases Sylvain's cock, wrapping his hand around the generous length and circling his thumb around the tip, wet and sticky despite the ring. ] There is nothing wrong with you. You do not disappoint me.

[ He kisses his jaw, holding his head in place, sucking hard. His hand slides down his shaft, over the ring, to knead at his sack, strong legs wrapping around the other's to hold him in place and give him something to push against.

He shifts the hand on his jaw, fingers on Sylvain's lips -- and invitation, if he wants them inside. ]

[philancer]

[ He stills when those fingers grasp his jaw, taking in the hardened expression with wide eyes. Something in him quailing at the sight, bracing for... what, he doesn't know, but he doubts it will be good.

And then Basch drags him down for a hard, bruising kiss, his hand squeezing tight around his cock in a way that has him crying out, the sound muffled into the kiss as his head spins.

He expects the words to fall like heavy blows - as they have always done. And at first they do. With his walls crumbled, he flinches, unable to hide the instinctive reaction, expecting the anger - or worse - to cut into that vulnerability. But while that white-hot simmers in Basch's eyes, in the firmness of his tone and grip, the words... are not what he expects. And the refusal to hear apologies... just has his eyes widening in confusion, latching onto the other man's face. Completely uncomprehending.

Even the praise just adds to his confusion - not that he has long to focus on that. Not when Basch's fingers find his cock, draw him out and begin to stroke. It drives the icy fear out of him once more as he whimpers into that kiss, his lips bruising, breath catching in his throat, and then the mouth moves to his jaw, sucks sharp, stinging redness into his skin and he shatters all over again as those hands work his cock, his balls. Making it impossible to think, impossible to be afraid, to worry.

He just wants. And when those fingers slide against his lips, there is nothing but eagerness as he parts them, sucks on the fingers hungrily as his hips rock into the stroke of that hand. Chasing it. ]

[bardische]

[ Sylvain flinches and recoils. It takes everything Basch has to keep from snarling. He’d had an idea but…that someone had done this to Sylvain, so deeply that it came out here, that he’d built defenses this high…

No one will hurt his pet again. Himself included.

He slides those fingers in, moaning prettily for Sylvain. He pulls the other back against him, flush and stable and warm, before he begins stroking his ringed cock in earnest, palm interrupted by the bite if it with each stroke. ]

You are beautiful and hungry and pliant and perfect, Sylvain. I will keep you spoiled and safe.

[ And then he’s sucking marks into his neck, hands still working, trusting the toys to do their job. Overstimulation is the goal, and then he will keep the other in his lap, dazed and relaxed, show everyone that this is his and off limits. ]

[philancer]

[ It's easy to get lost in it - maybe part of him wants to. To let the heat and the touch and the rush of euphoria chase everything else away for a little while. It's something he'd used many times, but he'd always been in control of it. It was something he couldn't afford to relinquish, after all.

But now? Now he has no choice, that control torn from his gasp and flung so far away it might as well not even have existed. Instead, there is only Basch's hands, his mouth. The stinging kisses to his throat, the fingers pressing against his tongue, back to his throat, demanding his utter surrender.

It's the hand stroking his cock, dragging whimpers and desperate cries from him as he rocks into it, chases that heated friction. Its the shift of the toy within him, rubbing against sensitive muscles that clench and shudder, aching to be filled, stretched, aching for more. The pleasure builds, but there's no outlet and he can only cling to the man he straddles and be carried along with it. ]

[bardische]

[ the game has passed, and now he focuses only on pleasure, hands and mouth working together. Sylvain is already so wound up, but the ring is keeping the build slow, so Basch intentionally increases the pace, the intensity. He can feel himself getting hard again, feeling Sylvain tremble and buck under his touch, hearing every moan and whimper. He presses down on his tongue, a reminder to both of them of where that mouth had just been, and the strokes of his hand become more urgent, stimulating his head as he sucks hard on the other’s neck.

His own hips begin to rock, half-hard cock pressing against Sylvain, breath raspy and wanting. Finally his mouth breaks away, knowing words can help push that last bit. ]

Look at you, beauty. Everyone else is. They’re so jealous of you, here on my lap being pampered, and of me getting to do it. You’ve managed these toys so well. I want to hear you crest. Come for me, pet, sing. Grip onto me like you’ll blow away if you don’t. Wear my mark to remind you how beautiful it was.

[ his lips are back, hard on his jaw, and he can tell from the desperate whines and please sylvain is close. ]

[philancer]

[ He is - the only thing holding him back now is the ring and the magic that winds through him, waiting on his master's permission for release - not that he's aware of that part, but his body is. Hanging there by a thread while the man plays him so expertly he can do nothing but obey.

Basch's words are the permission the magic was waiting for - what he was waiting for - and the keen that leaves his lips is wanton and needy and breathless. Muffled around the fingers still pressing against his tongue, Basch's name might slip free in between the whimpered pleas as his body rocks, then tenses, shuddering, as that pleasure crests within him. Spills as he arches into that touch, cock pulsing hotly as he jolts and shudders, swept away by the intensity of it. Especially when those lips and teeth leave even more redness in his flesh. And something in him thrills at being so claimed, so marked. ]

[bardische]

[ Basch isn't a saint; he moves his fingers at the feel of Sylvain's voice, grinning like a dog whose caught his prey when the other whimpers his name. All of this is a victory, the hot spend on his hand, the absolute convulsion of Sylvain's body, the utter surrender.

He works him through it, reveling in every sound and movement, and when the other starts to slump, he twists him in his lap, guiding his head to his shoulder, his arms up around his neck. He doesn't give a thought to the sticky spend between them, just cradles Sylvain to him, fingers still lightly stroking his softening cock while the others comb in his hair. ]

Good boy. Exactly what I wanted. And what you wanted.

[philancer]

[ He's so dizzy and caught up with the intensity of it that he's pliant in the other man's hands as he twists and maneuvers him right where he wants him. Whimpers, as those clever hands keep teasing his sensitive cock, making him jolt and tremble. His face ends up buried against Basch's throat, arms wrapping around him to cling to him as he shakes.

Still gasping for air when the stimulation doesn't end. It softens, and he all but melts into Basch's hands, but the movement - around his cock and in his hair - means that heat keeps simmering. The murmured praises in his ear only have him a moaning, twitching mess in Basch's lap.

But the words sink in all the same. Rouse a rush of pleasure at being a good boy. At pleasing his master. And the cracks widen a little further, a little deeper, as the acknowledgement of I wanted this sinks into his thoughts, tightening their grasp until he forgot that maybe that hadn't been entirely true. Or perhaps just a truth he hadn't been ready to face yet. ]

[bardische]

[ There isn't a modicum of protest in Sylvain, physically or vocally. Basch all but purrs even as he strokes the other, bringing him down, sheltering him. Down to a simmer, at least. He isn't done with him yet, made clear by his own cock slowly hardening under Sylvain's lap, a fact he's sure has the other growing needy again.

And now he can go for what he really wants. ]

How are you doing, pet? Too tired? I promised you one more thing in that fantasy you asked me for so prettily.

[ He turns Sylvain's face out to him, pressing their lips together slow and firm, tongue sweeping out to find the other's before he tugs on his lip, working his mouth with his own. His cock stirs at it, and he moans for Sylvain to feel. ]

I want to take that toy out of your ass-- [ another kiss ] and fill you properly instead. Make sure you can feel me when this dream of a night is over. Make sure everyone knows how thoroughly you are mine, so lead or not, you are safe.

[philancer]

[ Safe. He’s not actually sure he’s ever known what that feels like.

He shudders against Basch, lips parting into that kiss. Those moans sending little shivers through him, even if some part of him is surprised by it. By how much he wants what the man describes. The words paint a picture so vivid that it’s easy to imagine it, and the next natural step after that is of course, to crave it. To want something more than the shallow toy in his ass. To be claimed by the man who holds him so tenderly, praises and promises sweet in his ears.

Safety. He’s not sure he believes it’s real, but he wants it all the same. ]

Please. [ His voice is a breathless rasp against Basch’s lips as he clings to him. Rocks into the slide of that hand, then down onto the lengthening hardness he can feel caught beneath him. Grinds against it with aching want. ] I want that.

[bardische]

[ His please Basch will take all night. Especially when they come with that whole-body want. Sylvain squirming in his lap is not something he'll tired of quickly. ]

Good [ he says, closing the space between their lips again. And he just takes a moment to cradle and stroke the other, making good on the promise of safety, and safety to come. ]

Alright [ he murmurs ] Get these off for me. They're too tight for you to straddle me. [ there's a tease in the order, expecting the image will rile Sylvain up now rather than mortify him, but still curious if the other man will balk at half-disrobing in this place. But his point stands. Sylvain needs the added mobility. ]

[philancer]

[ The inclusion of that mental image is more than enough to drown out any other thoughts about it, about being so exposed in public. Then again, he's all but forgotten about that right now, turned as he is on Basch's lap, facing him in the little booth. The rest of the world might as well be a distant thing.

He pushes up on his knees, breath still coming in ragged little pants, eyes dark and locked on Basch. His hands fall away from Basch's shoulders to fumble with the fastenings on the side, the strange clothing actually having been a fortuitous choice when they can be removed like this instead of him even having to climb off of the man's lap.

He tugs the all-but-sheer fabric away, leaving him bared from the waist down, nothing left but the ring around the base of his cock and the toy still lodged in his ass. He shivers, self-conscious, even though he's only aware of Basch's gaze on him. But that's enough. ]

[bardische]

[ Basch watches with hunger and approval as Sylvain shifts, undoing the fastenings without ever leaving Basch's hold. Or his gaze. His fingers continue to stroke through the other's hair, murmuring quiet praises, meeting that eye contact with affection and approval. And when he gets the pants off, Basch makes a point to look over all of him in approval. ]

You are exactly my taste [ He says with a warm kiss, guiding Sylvain's arms back around his neck before his own hands venture down to caress Sylvain's back, his ass, then coax the toy out and toss it aside. Leaving the other empty, he begins to massage the backs of his thighs. ]

You'll have to get me hard again, pet.

[philancer]

[ He hisses out a surprised sound when Basch works the toy out of him, a sound that melts into a whine at the following emptiness the loss leaves him with. He... he doesn't like it, he's surprised to find. With as much as he wanted it in in the first place, now he only wants it back.

Or wants something more. Something that has his gaze dropping hungrily to Basch's half-hard cock once more, licking his lips in memory. ]

Should I...? [ he shifts back uncertainly, unsure what Basch wanted him to do, after he'd drawn his arms back to his neck. Was he meant to get back on his knees? ]

[bardische]

Oh sweet, eager thing. [ He chuckles, firming his grip on Sylvan. He is not relinquishing him any time soon, even if his cock hardens more at the offer. ]

No, I want you here with me. Kiss me. Grind if you feel so inclined. You make me plenty hard. [ Information he's happy to let slip now, with the state of Sylvain, with how his want is breaking through the fear and the hatred. ]

[philancer]

[ His hungry gaze darts from Basch's cock back up to his lips at these words. Not quite an order, but the mental image of it is enough all on its own to spur him into movement. All but crushing himself against the other man as he kisses him hungrily, whimpering against the man's lips as his hips rock down against him. Grinds his aching cock along Basch's own length in need. ]

[bardische]

[ Oh this is bliss. Basch doesn't have to calculate anything, just letting his body lead as he takes in Sylvain's eager kissing and grinding, giving it back just as hotly. His hands rove, fingers stroking skin and tugging at that chain and pinching ass, and his hips rock against the ones grinding down against him. It's hardly any time before he's gasping Sylvain's name, hard and ready against him. ]

Tell me what you want [ he purrs. ] Tell me exactly where you want to be.

[ he's already grasping around for the lubricant he knows is scattered throughout this place. ]

[philancer]

I want... [ he gasps out, head spinning with a mixture of arousal, heat, and need. It makes it hard to think, to get those words out, but Basch had told him to, and he finds himself complying, even if it's an even greater struggle to obey this order than it had been the other ones. ]

I want to feel you. Everywhere. You said... You said you'd fill me. You said I'd be safe.

[bardische]

You're such a good boy, [ he murmurs, stroking the other's cheek with a softer kiss. He can hear that struggle, and he knows now how often Sylvain is blank or limited on his orders to speak. This is progress. ] You will always be safe with me. I will gladly fulfill your wishes. I want to feel you too.

[ Not that he hasn't been. But now, he slips lube on his fingers, pressing them into Sylvain first, keeping him flush to him and their mouths together. The other is already loosened up from the toy, but he makes sure to be generous with both the lube and his touch, working one finger then a second to be pleasurable rather than teasing.

Then he reaches between them, slicking his cock. Wordlessly, he takes Sylvain's hips, guiding him so they can align, keeping his mouth the entire time. ]

[philancer]

[ The sound he makes when Basch's fingers slide into him is nothing short of obscene, muffled as it is into that kiss. his entire body clenches down around the press, shuddering at the sensation of it. He can't help but rock into it, chasing the sensation. The toy had loosened him and Basch's fingers only add to that and it feels wonderful, but he still wants more, needs him deeper.

But they're gone again, almost when he'd adjusted to it, and he whines at the loss, only to be guided closer, feeling the slick head of Basch's cock rub at his entrance. And then he's gasping out because that, that's what he needs and he struggles impatiently against the grip of Basch's hands, wanting to sink down on him, take all of him, caught up in the frenzy of heat and need that rages in him. ]

[bardische]

Easy [ he chuckles, using a good amount of his strength to keep Sylvain from sinking too quickly. The physical tension sends even more heat through him. Some day they’ll wrestle, or Basch will pin him to a wall or the edge of a table. But not today. ] I promised to keep you safe and cared for.

[ but as soon as Sylvain has taken him once, sunk all the way onto him, he lets up, gives into the fire in the other, ready to follow his lead. Never do his hands or mouth stop though. ]

[philancer]

[ Basch drags it out and it's like slow torture, the way the man lowers his body onto his cock. His body clenches tight around it, greedy, as he's stretched open, impaled on the man's length. It stretches him far more than the toy had, than his fingers had, and Sylvain whines at the feel of it. Too much and not enough all at the same time.

But finally, finally, he's buried to the hilt, Sylvain's body tight and clenching and shuddering around every thick inch of it, but by now, Sylvain is all but sobbing with his need. Fingers clinging to Basch's shoulders, the nails biting into his flesh as he grips him, trembling and shuddering. His cock is achingly hard, leaking against his stomach, and the need to move is blinding.

He's long since fallen into choked pleas and broken off begging, unable to drag in a full lungful of air. And even then, each delicious and broken noise Basch drags from his lips is occasionally lost into his own mouth, swallowed up by his hungry kisses.

When the hands finally release their grip on his hips, granting him freedom to move, for a moment, he stutters, as if he's forgotten what to do with that. but his body knows, his need taking over barely a heartbeat later, and then he's lifting up and rocking back down sharply, drawing up only to take him to the hilt once more with a sharp thrust of his hips that all but punches the breath from his lungs.

And should Basch let him, the pace he'd fall into would be just shy of frenzied, sharp and deep and needy, trying to take all of him he can, even as he keens and pleads for more. ]

[bardische]

[ Basch absolutely lets him. The minute he's sure Sylvain is ready, he grants control. Basch is not immune to how tightly the other has clenched against him, or the pleas and keens and eagerness he shows in wanting Basch.

The pace is incredible. Basch follows his own body's lead, keeping them both stable, roving his fingers and mouth over Sylvain, but mostly breathlessly keening back at how good the other feels and how triumphant he is at having gotten Sylvain to take what he wants. He whispers a string of praises between kisses, his hips rocking up to meet Sylvain's movements, occasionally tugging on the chain or slapping ass, but it Sylvain needs no encouragement.

Basch had had every intention of fucking Sylvain, but instead he's the one being fucked, and he is absolutely helpless to how attractive it is. He feels his orgasm building and pulls Sylvain tighter to him, yanking up his own shirt so he can feel that hot cock against his stomach, rasping the other's name and breathless encouragement.

He comes hard, dizziness shuddering through him. He clenches Sylvain with his whole body as he does, crying out against his mouth. He hasn't wanted anyone this much in so long, and feeling the full force of want Sylvain carries -- he will have eyes for no one else for a very long time. He's just as trapped by this arrangement as his pet, and he has absolutely no qualms with that. ]

[philancer]

[ Breathless and sweaty from his exertions, Sylvain rides his cock with a single-minded focus and determination, a hunger, that's all-consuming. it builds and builds and builds and he can only be carried along with it, the pleasure and need relentless as it throbs within him.

Basch's cock buried so deep, splitting him open each time he drops down on him. His own body, shuddering at the stimulation each time he grinds down against his prostate - keens and chases that feeling even more until he's panting, gasping for air.

Each of those touches, kisses, praises - no matter how soft or sensual or sharp - each one builds off the other until it feels as if every nerve hums with sensation. And when he feels Basch press up deeply into him and spill into him, his cock pulsing hotly against the tight clench of Sylvain's body, his own cock throbs with envy as he grinds down, shuddering, greedily taking every drop.

But some part of him teeters there on the cliff's edge., cock pulsing against the ring binding him, body primed for pleasure but unable to grasp it. he's so close, but something in him is held back and he keens and whines, shuddering as he rocks, desperate. ]

Please, please, Master, please...! [ he gasps out, the words a strained, breathless chant. ]

[bardische]

Come, my pet [ he coos, petting the other’s sweat stroked hair even as he prepares to hold him steady for what will inevitably be complete surrender and complete collapse. ] I will catch you.

[ and shelter him, and continue to bask in awe at how incredible this man is, and how hungry and beautiful he is. It’s clear no one has taken care of him, not in the ways that matter. Basch will fix that. And gods he’ll be weak to it. Dizziness still cascades through him, his limbs tired and languid. He can only imagine how drained Sylvain will be tomorrow, and he relishes it. ]