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tampered2006-12-10 03:22 am
revelations9x6.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-12-10 03:22 am
Log: Ongoing
When; Dec. 10th ( just after midnight)
Rating; R to NC-17
Characters; Xulchibara![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
revelations9x6, Vincent snarky_padre_v
Summary; Vincent has a gift for his Lord, and learns just how far his newfound abilities extend
Log;
The Manor House was never fully silent, even after the far away bells tolled out the witching hour.
Like a body in sleep, there were always tasked to be performed, always someone ( or something ) awake and moving in the halls, albeit at a slower, more subdued pace.
True silence, however, crept in on cats' feet to surround the room and the dreamer within it.
A muffling strangeness that cut off the space from the outside corridors, for if no sound could enter, so too could it not leave.
As before the human may have unconsciously percieved the change...or may not.
He may have percieved a chilling heat move behind him as one would percieve a draft from the outer halls.
He may have known....and considering Vincent was often visited by his Lord in such a fashion, he may have known long before another would have realized the change.
No sound heralded his arrival, but the heat that accompanied the presense of the dark man was the same; a radiating ice made all the more intense by his proximity to his pet, and the lack of his favored T-shirt attire, his smooth white skin contrasting strikingly with his dark leather textured slacks which ended again in bared feet.
The red glow from the newly aquired heater cast his white skin in red-edged highlights as he leaned against the bedpost at the foot of Vincent's bed.
The feather in his hand caught the light here and there, and gave it back with a sparkle of copper along the lines of the quill.
A strange look turned the God-made-flesh's features into something startlingly close to nostalgia.
A look that could almost....almost...be described as wistful.
Slender fingers traced the edge of the feather meditatively, and almost as an afterthought, drew the long quill across his cheek, his discordant eyes closed in memories of things long gone.
-
Vincent, his room finally warm, had in fact been dozing; his thoughts on the rituals he was sure they could attempt, to bring forth a magic for Henry that would rival that that the Ritual of Assumption had given those who had worked it.
For the Assumption of the New Flesh required dying, and where was the fun in that?
There were a few gaps in Vincent's knowledge regarding the Sect of the Holy Mother however, he was sure he could find those things out. A trip to the City's vasty library, perhaps; he had been told there were books there that hadn't even been written yet, and all but salivated at the very idea of such a place.
He shuddered now, sensing a change in the air, and rolled over to see that Xuchilbara had come to claim his gift. "I...I'm sorry if it doesn't please you, Lord." It seemed such an anticlimactic thing as opposed to the more expensive gifts he had gotten the others.
Scarab, he was amused to say, was getting her gun; it was expensive, but Vincent was sure he could pester one of the City's hackers to get him back in touch with his bank account in the Hill.
At the time he had also bought himself a small gun as well; he intended to ask where the others did target practice, and try to learn to shoot it with some accuracy. No one was going to get the jump on him like Father Maxwell had ever again, he was determined...
In spite of his threat to get kinkier clothes for Henry he had in fact, bought him some more of the style of shorts and jeans he already fancied, and a decent lens for that camera of his.
Also in spite of claiming he'd buy nothing for Alessa, he had picked out for her a nice gown out of a catalogue; nothing too revealing, but rather a flowy sort of thing of the sort he knew women liked to dance around in when they were alone. Unable to tell what color she'd like, he'd got her one of each of the selections they had available.
-
Flame wreathed eyes opened, seemingly startled from thier reverie, then flicked toward Vincent.
A slow smile broke out across the God's features that turned his expression into one of a strange, manic, joy....and yet something deeper hinted at the edges of that madcap happiness; a ghost of loss.
Unrolling from his perched postition on the end of the bed, he stalked across as a great cat would, on all fours.
liquid movements of shoulder and hip picked his way across notes, papers and the odd book until those fire kissed eyes could travel from Vincent's own, down the length of him, and back.
As though the God were sizing up a particularly delectible cut of meat.
Another grin at Vincent's expression while his Master had stalked him, and Xulchilbara settled back to sit on his heels.
A playful edge, now, to that smile as the God traced the tip of the feather across his Prophet's cheek.
" You don't know what this is, do you..." it was more statement than question. Of course Vincent didn't know, else the human would be positively giddy with this newfound power.
Leaning down again to rest on his propped elbows, the God caught and held Vincent's eyes.
" Where did you get this, Kamlo? How did you find it?"
The questions were not harshly asked, but the intensity behind them was definitely unmistakable. After all...how does one manage to aquire a part of a creature that no longer walked the waking world...
-
"I...I'm not sure, exactly. I just..I wanted to make...to find you something..." he was confused. He could, should offer to share the memory of what he did except...well, there really wasn't one. He had been so very far out of himself he, Vincent had ceased to exist where he'd gone...which made sense really. That far into the past he would not have existed.
And then, there were the human doubts... that the Master would see his jealousy of Alessa's gift, and how close he had come to dying to do this thing.
That the Master would see the crush that he had cultivated and was now trying so hard to smother... he sighed. "You...can look, if you want. I really don't remember."
Oh well. Here went nothing...
-
Leaning in to claim a forceful kiss, the God did not close his eyes as most did on relfex, but instead held his pet's own, drawing him into the horror of the utter chaos that was Xulchilbara's consciousness.
Like the ring of incandescence, the event horizon of a black hole, the dark man's eyes swallowed Vincent's mind; bladed fingers riffling and sorting through the hazy memories it found within.
This was somewhat difficult to interpret considering a human mind is not meant to grasp what exactly Vincent had done by following his Lord's line of fate. Literally; the lifeline of a God
The faint stirrings of connection Xulchilbara had felt a few days ago suddenly made sense, however, when the Prophet's memories registered as almost an out of body experience...but Vincent was more bound to his flesh than some, and in leaving his body behind he had travelled the only route his human mind knew to find what he sought.
Vincent had not only passed through layers of time and perception, but also the Dreaming....and it was in the Dreaming that the Prophet had discovered, and subsequently returned with this feather.
The connection withdrew along with the kiss, but the God did not move very far away.
An indolent smile still turned on his pet, the God leaned in again to give Vincent a softer, more tender kiss, and spoke directly into his beautiful Kamlo's mind.
YoU hAvE GiVeN mE A GiFt oF GrEaT wOrTh, KaMlO, He purred through his pet's thoughts.
gRiFfInS No LonGeR WaLk tHe WaKiNg WoRld, aFtEr AlL..
His tongue pushed past Vincent's lips to taste him deeper, to the accompaniment of a near-loving spike in pleasure-pain from the point of contact.
Drawing away reluctantly with a light hiss and soft snap of sharp teeth, the God rubbed his cheek like a scent-marking cat, against Vincent's shoulder.
" ..hmm....The question remains, however...."
A liquid shift of muscle and the God was laying full length beside Vincent, his fingers leaving burning trails across the Prophet's cheek, neck, and down to seek more uncovered skin..
"How did you do it, dear heart?.....How did you bring something from the Dream planes, into the waking world?"
-
Vincent shook his head. "I really have no idea. I just did."
His eyes lit up a bit at the thought of it, a somewhat covetous smile on his face. "I've been wanting that book so much... I guess i just thought there might be a way to reach things that aren't as tangible. Besides..." a slightly sulky tone to his voice, not exactly trying to hide his jealousy, "Alessa makes things all the time. there's no reason for me to assume I might not have powers of some kind, too..."
-
Seemingly distracted by Vincent's hair, and the slow petting carresses that threaded the man's hair through the God's fingers, he spoke without concern.
" Alessa's gifts are creative in nature, simply because her purpose is also creative in nature."
He nuzzled against Vincent's neck, and delicately kissed the human's pulsepoint before speaking again, his breath fanning hotly against the Prophet's skin.
" You, my sweet Kamlo, have brought a piece of dreams back across the borders of the waking world...and you did this without alerting the Lord Shaper to your whereabouts or your doings..."
Another flick of his tongue across that spot where the vein was closest to the skin.
" That is quite a feat, indeed...."
The God drew away again to smile into Vincent's too-green eyes.
......ThAnK YoU, ViNcEnT....ThIs-, He indicated the large coppery feather, - MeAnS a gReAt DeAL tO mE...
-
Vincent smiled goofily. It was the smile of the truly lovelorn; the poor guy's heart just sang when Xuchilbara was happy with him. "Really?"
He'd figured his mission had been a whopping failure; a near disaster, really. If Henry hadn't happened along when he did, who knew what might have happened. He hadn't been breathing. Hadn't been thinking. Something in him had been this far from snapping, and it seemed like as naught this might have left him so lost even the City would not have been able to put him back together...
His Master was pleased with him, and Vincent all but purred in contentment
--
YeS, ReAlLy...
Laying side by side, and still placing soft kisses against Vincent's cheeks, neck, and the small amount of skin exposed by the top of his buttoned shirt, said Master pushed himself closer until the length of his body from hip to stomach, pressed in a line of chilling heat against his Prophet.
Gently, but insistently, His fingers pulled at the buttons on Vincent's pajama shirt, undoing them one at a time, until He could trace the midline of his servant's body from chest, to belly, to the very top of Vincent's waistband.
Another lingering kiss, and He pulled at the sleeves of Vincent's loosened shirt, drawing it off the man's upper body and tossing it away.
" Turn over, Kamlo....Let me see you.." he asked in a softer tone of voice.
Vincent complied, and lay flat on his stomach for his Lord's inspection.
Burning eyes slipped half-closed and inspected the thick webworked scar tissue along his Prophet's back with a lazy smile.
Moving without haste, he got to his knees, then moved to support his weight on his own heels, while straddling Vincent's lower back.
The heated chill of his index finger traced another identical line down the indentation of Vincent's spine....then drew away as the God leaned away toward one of the nightstands.
I haVe A GoFt FoR YoU tOo, ViNcEnT.
While Vincent had dozed, the God had come to check on his Prophet, and left a small gift of his own sitting on the low table beside the bed.
Now, he reached for it, and unscrewed the cap on a simple glass bottle of sandalwood oil.
ScArRiNg ThAt rUnS sO dEeP rEqUiReS A bIt oF CaRe OR it WiLl TiGhTeN ThE SkiN on YOuR ArMs aS WeLl, he offerred by way of explanation as he folded a few drops of the oil to warm briefly in his hands.
A moment more, and those slick, burning hands found Vincent's scarred flesh, and traced across it, following the lines of damaged tissue in a slow, chaotic pattern.
The God's fingers brushed across his shoulders, and paused momentarily against the nape of Vincent's neck...then sent a pulse of exquisite agony down the nerve fiber to spike, then dissapear entirely once it had followed that particular nerve channel to it's end; a burst of pain so fast one may question if it had actually happened.
This was Vincent's gift more than a tiny bottle of oil.
...And possibly one of equal value to what Vincent had given him...torture hidden in tenderness.
-
Vincent hissed and tensed,shuddering in the aftermath of the pain. He closed his eyes as his breathing changed tempo, in anticipation of the next touch.
The oil smelled interesting to him, a scent reminiscent of somewhere faroff and exotic that he had visited once and then forgotten. He arched his back, tilting his head back as well til he could feel his own hair tickling the nape of his neck.
He was, he hoped, ready for whatever was to come next.
For a moment, he wished he had known Xuchilbara was coming, so he could have had his collar on. The idea of having his head pulled back in this way instead excited him.
-
What came next?
...Nothing.
Or rather simple carressing accompanied by the usual chilled warmth that was normal for the God's basic touch.
His fingers spread, and fanned across Vincent's shoulder, and liesurely moved to curl around the man's ribcage.
...That familiar, barely audibal purring started softly in His chest as he drew his hands back and let the nail on each index finger trace the first rib on each of Vincent's sides....
...And then pushed another lash of searing pain into the first pair of the eight major nerve channels that outline the ribcage.
His midfingers came down against the second set as his hands splayed, and repeated the near-surgical application of sensation. That purring deepened briefly, and the God settled back onto his heels further, thus making his hips brush intimately ( and intentionally) against his pet's ass.
YoU ArE tHe OnLY oNe WhO wIlLiNgLy sUbJeCtS YoUrSeLf tO Me........
Those stroking, lightly petting hands spread more of the warm oil further down the man's back, then index fingers moved again to the third set of ribs, and pushed more agony along the channels within; as a musician would tune his instrument, so too did the God tighten each of those ecstatically agonized strings of nervous system.
The final set of nerve channels sounded, and the God moved his hands to lay, palms flat, fingers fanned across all of Vincent's ribcage where it connected to his spine....and lit every one of the pain chords with a red-tinged, excruciating note of agony; one knee moving back to force his prophet's apart, and thus allow Him to sit between Vincent's spread legs.
ThE OnLy oNe wHo TrUly KnOwS mY ToUcH, AnD YeT sTiLl BeGs FOr mOrE...
-
"Not even Henry, huh?" Vincent was of course, curious what went on in the threesomes, while wanting to convince both himself and Xuchilbara that he really could care less.
When it came to Alessa, he couldn't.
Surprisingly, Vincent had not done much, save under duress, with other males until he had come here; many of his nights had been spent bedding girls whose favors he had bought over at Heaven's Night.
Not only was he the only one who both bore and delighted in the god's touch, Xuchilbara was in fact, the closest Vincent had ever come to a gay relationship...odd, really, since he had fallen into the role so easily and willingly.
"I suppose you think me a fool, then. Or else a sex starved trollop."
Well. he was both those things too though, wasn't he?
Rating; R to NC-17
Characters; Xulchibara
revelations9x6, Vincent snarky_padre_vSummary; Vincent has a gift for his Lord, and learns just how far his newfound abilities extend
Log;
The Manor House was never fully silent, even after the far away bells tolled out the witching hour.
Like a body in sleep, there were always tasked to be performed, always someone ( or something ) awake and moving in the halls, albeit at a slower, more subdued pace.
True silence, however, crept in on cats' feet to surround the room and the dreamer within it.
A muffling strangeness that cut off the space from the outside corridors, for if no sound could enter, so too could it not leave.
As before the human may have unconsciously percieved the change...or may not.
He may have percieved a chilling heat move behind him as one would percieve a draft from the outer halls.
He may have known....and considering Vincent was often visited by his Lord in such a fashion, he may have known long before another would have realized the change.
No sound heralded his arrival, but the heat that accompanied the presense of the dark man was the same; a radiating ice made all the more intense by his proximity to his pet, and the lack of his favored T-shirt attire, his smooth white skin contrasting strikingly with his dark leather textured slacks which ended again in bared feet.
The red glow from the newly aquired heater cast his white skin in red-edged highlights as he leaned against the bedpost at the foot of Vincent's bed.
The feather in his hand caught the light here and there, and gave it back with a sparkle of copper along the lines of the quill.
A strange look turned the God-made-flesh's features into something startlingly close to nostalgia.
A look that could almost....almost...be described as wistful.
Slender fingers traced the edge of the feather meditatively, and almost as an afterthought, drew the long quill across his cheek, his discordant eyes closed in memories of things long gone.
-
Vincent, his room finally warm, had in fact been dozing; his thoughts on the rituals he was sure they could attempt, to bring forth a magic for Henry that would rival that that the Ritual of Assumption had given those who had worked it.
For the Assumption of the New Flesh required dying, and where was the fun in that?
There were a few gaps in Vincent's knowledge regarding the Sect of the Holy Mother however, he was sure he could find those things out. A trip to the City's vasty library, perhaps; he had been told there were books there that hadn't even been written yet, and all but salivated at the very idea of such a place.
He shuddered now, sensing a change in the air, and rolled over to see that Xuchilbara had come to claim his gift. "I...I'm sorry if it doesn't please you, Lord." It seemed such an anticlimactic thing as opposed to the more expensive gifts he had gotten the others.
Scarab, he was amused to say, was getting her gun; it was expensive, but Vincent was sure he could pester one of the City's hackers to get him back in touch with his bank account in the Hill.
At the time he had also bought himself a small gun as well; he intended to ask where the others did target practice, and try to learn to shoot it with some accuracy. No one was going to get the jump on him like Father Maxwell had ever again, he was determined...
In spite of his threat to get kinkier clothes for Henry he had in fact, bought him some more of the style of shorts and jeans he already fancied, and a decent lens for that camera of his.
Also in spite of claiming he'd buy nothing for Alessa, he had picked out for her a nice gown out of a catalogue; nothing too revealing, but rather a flowy sort of thing of the sort he knew women liked to dance around in when they were alone. Unable to tell what color she'd like, he'd got her one of each of the selections they had available.
-
Flame wreathed eyes opened, seemingly startled from thier reverie, then flicked toward Vincent.
A slow smile broke out across the God's features that turned his expression into one of a strange, manic, joy....and yet something deeper hinted at the edges of that madcap happiness; a ghost of loss.
Unrolling from his perched postition on the end of the bed, he stalked across as a great cat would, on all fours.
liquid movements of shoulder and hip picked his way across notes, papers and the odd book until those fire kissed eyes could travel from Vincent's own, down the length of him, and back.
As though the God were sizing up a particularly delectible cut of meat.
Another grin at Vincent's expression while his Master had stalked him, and Xulchilbara settled back to sit on his heels.
A playful edge, now, to that smile as the God traced the tip of the feather across his Prophet's cheek.
" You don't know what this is, do you..." it was more statement than question. Of course Vincent didn't know, else the human would be positively giddy with this newfound power.
Leaning down again to rest on his propped elbows, the God caught and held Vincent's eyes.
" Where did you get this, Kamlo? How did you find it?"
The questions were not harshly asked, but the intensity behind them was definitely unmistakable. After all...how does one manage to aquire a part of a creature that no longer walked the waking world...
-
"I...I'm not sure, exactly. I just..I wanted to make...to find you something..." he was confused. He could, should offer to share the memory of what he did except...well, there really wasn't one. He had been so very far out of himself he, Vincent had ceased to exist where he'd gone...which made sense really. That far into the past he would not have existed.
And then, there were the human doubts... that the Master would see his jealousy of Alessa's gift, and how close he had come to dying to do this thing.
That the Master would see the crush that he had cultivated and was now trying so hard to smother... he sighed. "You...can look, if you want. I really don't remember."
Oh well. Here went nothing...
-
Leaning in to claim a forceful kiss, the God did not close his eyes as most did on relfex, but instead held his pet's own, drawing him into the horror of the utter chaos that was Xulchilbara's consciousness.
Like the ring of incandescence, the event horizon of a black hole, the dark man's eyes swallowed Vincent's mind; bladed fingers riffling and sorting through the hazy memories it found within.
This was somewhat difficult to interpret considering a human mind is not meant to grasp what exactly Vincent had done by following his Lord's line of fate. Literally; the lifeline of a God
The faint stirrings of connection Xulchilbara had felt a few days ago suddenly made sense, however, when the Prophet's memories registered as almost an out of body experience...but Vincent was more bound to his flesh than some, and in leaving his body behind he had travelled the only route his human mind knew to find what he sought.
Vincent had not only passed through layers of time and perception, but also the Dreaming....and it was in the Dreaming that the Prophet had discovered, and subsequently returned with this feather.
The connection withdrew along with the kiss, but the God did not move very far away.
An indolent smile still turned on his pet, the God leaned in again to give Vincent a softer, more tender kiss, and spoke directly into his beautiful Kamlo's mind.
YoU hAvE GiVeN mE A GiFt oF GrEaT wOrTh, KaMlO, He purred through his pet's thoughts.
gRiFfInS No LonGeR WaLk tHe WaKiNg WoRld, aFtEr AlL..
His tongue pushed past Vincent's lips to taste him deeper, to the accompaniment of a near-loving spike in pleasure-pain from the point of contact.
Drawing away reluctantly with a light hiss and soft snap of sharp teeth, the God rubbed his cheek like a scent-marking cat, against Vincent's shoulder.
" ..hmm....The question remains, however...."
A liquid shift of muscle and the God was laying full length beside Vincent, his fingers leaving burning trails across the Prophet's cheek, neck, and down to seek more uncovered skin..
"How did you do it, dear heart?.....How did you bring something from the Dream planes, into the waking world?"
-
Vincent shook his head. "I really have no idea. I just did."
His eyes lit up a bit at the thought of it, a somewhat covetous smile on his face. "I've been wanting that book so much... I guess i just thought there might be a way to reach things that aren't as tangible. Besides..." a slightly sulky tone to his voice, not exactly trying to hide his jealousy, "Alessa makes things all the time. there's no reason for me to assume I might not have powers of some kind, too..."
-
Seemingly distracted by Vincent's hair, and the slow petting carresses that threaded the man's hair through the God's fingers, he spoke without concern.
" Alessa's gifts are creative in nature, simply because her purpose is also creative in nature."
He nuzzled against Vincent's neck, and delicately kissed the human's pulsepoint before speaking again, his breath fanning hotly against the Prophet's skin.
" You, my sweet Kamlo, have brought a piece of dreams back across the borders of the waking world...and you did this without alerting the Lord Shaper to your whereabouts or your doings..."
Another flick of his tongue across that spot where the vein was closest to the skin.
" That is quite a feat, indeed...."
The God drew away again to smile into Vincent's too-green eyes.
......ThAnK YoU, ViNcEnT....ThIs-, He indicated the large coppery feather, - MeAnS a gReAt DeAL tO mE...
-
Vincent smiled goofily. It was the smile of the truly lovelorn; the poor guy's heart just sang when Xuchilbara was happy with him. "Really?"
He'd figured his mission had been a whopping failure; a near disaster, really. If Henry hadn't happened along when he did, who knew what might have happened. He hadn't been breathing. Hadn't been thinking. Something in him had been this far from snapping, and it seemed like as naught this might have left him so lost even the City would not have been able to put him back together...
His Master was pleased with him, and Vincent all but purred in contentment
--
YeS, ReAlLy...
Laying side by side, and still placing soft kisses against Vincent's cheeks, neck, and the small amount of skin exposed by the top of his buttoned shirt, said Master pushed himself closer until the length of his body from hip to stomach, pressed in a line of chilling heat against his Prophet.
Gently, but insistently, His fingers pulled at the buttons on Vincent's pajama shirt, undoing them one at a time, until He could trace the midline of his servant's body from chest, to belly, to the very top of Vincent's waistband.
Another lingering kiss, and He pulled at the sleeves of Vincent's loosened shirt, drawing it off the man's upper body and tossing it away.
" Turn over, Kamlo....Let me see you.." he asked in a softer tone of voice.
Vincent complied, and lay flat on his stomach for his Lord's inspection.
Burning eyes slipped half-closed and inspected the thick webworked scar tissue along his Prophet's back with a lazy smile.
Moving without haste, he got to his knees, then moved to support his weight on his own heels, while straddling Vincent's lower back.
The heated chill of his index finger traced another identical line down the indentation of Vincent's spine....then drew away as the God leaned away toward one of the nightstands.
I haVe A GoFt FoR YoU tOo, ViNcEnT.
While Vincent had dozed, the God had come to check on his Prophet, and left a small gift of his own sitting on the low table beside the bed.
Now, he reached for it, and unscrewed the cap on a simple glass bottle of sandalwood oil.
ScArRiNg ThAt rUnS sO dEeP rEqUiReS A bIt oF CaRe OR it WiLl TiGhTeN ThE SkiN on YOuR ArMs aS WeLl, he offerred by way of explanation as he folded a few drops of the oil to warm briefly in his hands.
A moment more, and those slick, burning hands found Vincent's scarred flesh, and traced across it, following the lines of damaged tissue in a slow, chaotic pattern.
The God's fingers brushed across his shoulders, and paused momentarily against the nape of Vincent's neck...then sent a pulse of exquisite agony down the nerve fiber to spike, then dissapear entirely once it had followed that particular nerve channel to it's end; a burst of pain so fast one may question if it had actually happened.
This was Vincent's gift more than a tiny bottle of oil.
...And possibly one of equal value to what Vincent had given him...torture hidden in tenderness.
-
Vincent hissed and tensed,shuddering in the aftermath of the pain. He closed his eyes as his breathing changed tempo, in anticipation of the next touch.
The oil smelled interesting to him, a scent reminiscent of somewhere faroff and exotic that he had visited once and then forgotten. He arched his back, tilting his head back as well til he could feel his own hair tickling the nape of his neck.
He was, he hoped, ready for whatever was to come next.
For a moment, he wished he had known Xuchilbara was coming, so he could have had his collar on. The idea of having his head pulled back in this way instead excited him.
-
What came next?
...Nothing.
Or rather simple carressing accompanied by the usual chilled warmth that was normal for the God's basic touch.
His fingers spread, and fanned across Vincent's shoulder, and liesurely moved to curl around the man's ribcage.
...That familiar, barely audibal purring started softly in His chest as he drew his hands back and let the nail on each index finger trace the first rib on each of Vincent's sides....
...And then pushed another lash of searing pain into the first pair of the eight major nerve channels that outline the ribcage.
His midfingers came down against the second set as his hands splayed, and repeated the near-surgical application of sensation. That purring deepened briefly, and the God settled back onto his heels further, thus making his hips brush intimately ( and intentionally) against his pet's ass.
YoU ArE tHe OnLY oNe WhO wIlLiNgLy sUbJeCtS YoUrSeLf tO Me........
Those stroking, lightly petting hands spread more of the warm oil further down the man's back, then index fingers moved again to the third set of ribs, and pushed more agony along the channels within; as a musician would tune his instrument, so too did the God tighten each of those ecstatically agonized strings of nervous system.
The final set of nerve channels sounded, and the God moved his hands to lay, palms flat, fingers fanned across all of Vincent's ribcage where it connected to his spine....and lit every one of the pain chords with a red-tinged, excruciating note of agony; one knee moving back to force his prophet's apart, and thus allow Him to sit between Vincent's spread legs.
ThE OnLy oNe wHo TrUly KnOwS mY ToUcH, AnD YeT sTiLl BeGs FOr mOrE...
-
"Not even Henry, huh?" Vincent was of course, curious what went on in the threesomes, while wanting to convince both himself and Xuchilbara that he really could care less.
When it came to Alessa, he couldn't.
Surprisingly, Vincent had not done much, save under duress, with other males until he had come here; many of his nights had been spent bedding girls whose favors he had bought over at Heaven's Night.
Not only was he the only one who both bore and delighted in the god's touch, Xuchilbara was in fact, the closest Vincent had ever come to a gay relationship...odd, really, since he had fallen into the role so easily and willingly.
"I suppose you think me a fool, then. Or else a sex starved trollop."
Well. he was both those things too though, wasn't he?