![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kethniName: The Commitment
Fandom: Alias
Pairing: Weiss/Sark
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Non-con, kidnap, bondage
Word Count: Approx 1600
Authors Note: Sequel to It’s The Quiet Ones for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
boudecia7
Having someone or something relying on you is a heck of a commitment and once you’ve agreed to it you can’t wiggle out of it. You have to be the kind of person who can put your needs second every time. I guess, in a way, it’s like any commitment really. It makes me a little anxious for Syd and Vaughn. I love Syd, I do, but I wouldn’t trust her to keep a goldfish alive for more than a week. Syd’s not a bad person, not by any means, she’s a wonderful girl; bright, caring, gutsy, and loyal but she’s All About The Drama. I’d never say it to anyone else, but I gotta suspect that if she was wrapped up with someone, anyone, other than Vaughn there would be still be the same amount of drama. Vaughn’s not so much feeding into The Drama, but, gosh, he does respond to it. Syd’s always on the boil whereas Vaughn is more of a peak and trough man. He can go quite a while without it, so long that you think everything is finally calm and thenpoof he’s gone on the drama rollercoaster again. He used to have a dog, a cute little boxer type, ever so affectionate. When the whole situation with Syd started his schedule went out the window. You gotta have a schedule. When someone is relying on you then you gotta be reliable and they need to know when you’re going to be home and that they’ll be fed, watered, and petted. If you make that kind of commitment then you have to honour it. But Vaughn, he was all over the place. Poor Lola, that was Vaughn’s dog, by the end she used to see me more than him. Eventually I gave her to my cousin Rosa out in the country since they love dogs. It took Vaughn three weeks to wonder where she’d gone. I went the other week actually to check up on Lola and she was bouncing around yapping with the other dogs, happy as Larry. I couldn’t stay long unfortunately but she was obviously having a fine old time of it. I would’ve stayed longer but, well, I have my own commitments. I don’t have anyone to help me out, which curtails my work since I have to limit the amount of time I’m away. There have been a few narrow escapes, but so far all the balls are still up in the air.
Boy, Sark is keyed up tonight. I know exactly why of course but it’s still a surprise exactly how keyed up he is right now. The little scamp had tried getting out of the basement last night so I had to punish him, or he’ll never learn. It’s for his own good. He’s gagged and chained up in the small punishment cage so I guess he’s got a lot of pent-up energy to get rid of. I’ll have to give him some extra exercise today, ride that tension out. There’s a small hole in the centre of the gag so he can sip from the water bottle. I sure don’t want him getting dehydrated and if there’s a fire or other emergency the floor will roll back and drop him down into the fortified sub-basement underneath where he’d be safe.
‘Did you miss your daddy?’ I ask as I open up the cage and unchain him. ‘Daddy missed you, yes he did.’
‘I’m bloody famished!’ he complains as soon as I take off the gag. ‘You could’ve left me something to eat!’
‘The last time I left you something to eat when you’d been bad you knocked it all over the floor in a fit of temper,’ I point out. ‘If you behaved yourself in the first place I wouldn’t have to punish you.’
‘Maybe if you didn’t punish me I wouldn’t try to escape,’ he snarls.
Well, like I said, he has a lot of pent-up energy and between that and being hungry it’s understandable he’s a little testy.
He calms down a bit eventually but keeps grumbling and complaining all the while I’m tying him down to the bed. He’s got a mouth like a sailor but I’ve heard it all before. When I first brought him home I was a little worried he wasn’t going to settle but I’m a pretty patient guy and most everyone responds to kindness. I think I’ve said before that I’m not the most handsome guy and I’m nobody’s idea of an exciting companion. But like I say, I’m patient and I’m observant, I’m not boasting, having good observational skills is part of my training, and the two things really help in bed. Observation skills are helpful when making sure that Sark is enjoying himself, especially when he’s gagged.
‘You’re not going to bloody gag me again are you?’ he asks suddenly as I tuck a pillow under his head.
‘Not if you don’t want me to,’ I say nicely.
‘Like you care what I want,’ he grumbles.
I finish securing him to the bed and stroke his cheek.
‘Aww, are you feeling unloved today?’
‘You had me in that little bloody cage all day,’ he mutters.
I sit down on the bed beside him and stroke his hair. ‘I don’t like doing that. If you were good I wouldn’t have to.’
‘I get so bored,’ he wheedles. ‘If you let me upstairs sometimes I know I wouldn’t get nearly as bored.’
It makes me smile because it’s so blatant, but I don’t mind. It’s sweet really, the way he wheedles and flutters his eyelashes at me. Sometimes it works, I mean I always know he’s doing it, but sometimes I indulge him a little. It’s so cute the way he smirks at getting one over on me.
‘Well I can’t let you up there until you’ve proved you can behave.’
I can always tell when he’s close. I’m a thoughtful sort of a guy and the signs are easy to see if you’re paying attention. Even if he’s face down and gagged I can tell by the way his muscles tense and the way his breath catches. There’s quite an art to it. Gauging how long to keep him gasping on the brink before letting him come is always a matter of judgement rather than anything else. Since he’s so keyed up today I think he’s going to need more of a release than usual so I better let him build up a proper head of steam before he comes.
‘Please... please... oh God... please...’
It’s the only time he ever says “please” but that’s okay, people forget to say please and thank you all the time. If you go through life waiting for people to make a song and dance about the things you do for them then you’re going to be disappointed and that’s a fact. If it was such a big deal for me then I wouldn’t have brought Sark home as he’s the naughty, cheeky sort and they’re always more likely to pout or stamp their feet than say thanks. It’s cute really, especially when he sulks and glowers.
He’s still pretty tense afterwards, his shoulders are pretty knotted up and he’s sleepy rather than having fallen into a deep sleep.
‘Oh God, what’re you doing now?’ he mutters. ‘Not the fucking machine!’
‘You’re still quite keyed up,’ I explain, untying his ankles and fixing them into stirrups to alter the angle. ‘Daddy is only human so I’m just going to finish exercising you with this while I make us something to eat.’
‘You don’t have to! I can just...’
‘Shush now.’ I slip a ballgag into his mouth and strap it behind his head. He keeps trying to talk around the gag as I finish getting everything ready and turn on the machine. He’s probably a little sensitive so I start it fairly slow and shallow. After a few minutes, he’s still moaning so I turn it up a little before going upstairs to make dinner.
The problem is of course that what Sark wants and what he needs are radically different prospects. It’d be easy to give him what he wants and to spoil him something awful but what good would that do him? No good, that’s what. Instead, I have to be the bad guy and give him what he needs rather than indulging him totally. Not that I don’t indulge him from time to time. I’m only human after all and Sark can be very affectionate in his own way when he thinks that he’s got one over on me. Like I said, he’s the naughty type. It’s endearing really.
He’s lying quiet on the bed when I carry down our dinner. Poor little guy is finally worn out it seems like. I put down the plates and turn off the machine. He makes a soft mewing noise when I pull it back and let him down out of the stirrups.
‘That’s better now isn’t it?’
He closes his eyes and shifts slightly as I take out the gag.
‘I’ve brought you some dinner. It’s a nice lasagne, you know you always like my lasagne,’ I say as I untie him. ‘Work with me Sark, upsy daisy.’
‘Won’t let me eat when I’m hungry. Won’t let me sleep when I’m tired,’ he mutters.
‘My poor baby.’
He gives me the stinkeye but opens his mouth to let me feed him. That’s how it some days, he bitches and moans and makes life as difficult as possible but in the end, he always comes around.
The End
Fandom: Alias
Pairing: Weiss/Sark
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Non-con, kidnap, bondage
Word Count: Approx 1600
Authors Note: Sequel to It’s The Quiet Ones for
boudecia7 Having someone or something relying on you is a heck of a commitment and once you’ve agreed to it you can’t wiggle out of it. You have to be the kind of person who can put your needs second every time. I guess, in a way, it’s like any commitment really. It makes me a little anxious for Syd and Vaughn. I love Syd, I do, but I wouldn’t trust her to keep a goldfish alive for more than a week. Syd’s not a bad person, not by any means, she’s a wonderful girl; bright, caring, gutsy, and loyal but she’s All About The Drama. I’d never say it to anyone else, but I gotta suspect that if she was wrapped up with someone, anyone, other than Vaughn there would be still be the same amount of drama. Vaughn’s not so much feeding into The Drama, but, gosh, he does respond to it. Syd’s always on the boil whereas Vaughn is more of a peak and trough man. He can go quite a while without it, so long that you think everything is finally calm and thenpoof he’s gone on the drama rollercoaster again. He used to have a dog, a cute little boxer type, ever so affectionate. When the whole situation with Syd started his schedule went out the window. You gotta have a schedule. When someone is relying on you then you gotta be reliable and they need to know when you’re going to be home and that they’ll be fed, watered, and petted. If you make that kind of commitment then you have to honour it. But Vaughn, he was all over the place. Poor Lola, that was Vaughn’s dog, by the end she used to see me more than him. Eventually I gave her to my cousin Rosa out in the country since they love dogs. It took Vaughn three weeks to wonder where she’d gone. I went the other week actually to check up on Lola and she was bouncing around yapping with the other dogs, happy as Larry. I couldn’t stay long unfortunately but she was obviously having a fine old time of it. I would’ve stayed longer but, well, I have my own commitments. I don’t have anyone to help me out, which curtails my work since I have to limit the amount of time I’m away. There have been a few narrow escapes, but so far all the balls are still up in the air.
Boy, Sark is keyed up tonight. I know exactly why of course but it’s still a surprise exactly how keyed up he is right now. The little scamp had tried getting out of the basement last night so I had to punish him, or he’ll never learn. It’s for his own good. He’s gagged and chained up in the small punishment cage so I guess he’s got a lot of pent-up energy to get rid of. I’ll have to give him some extra exercise today, ride that tension out. There’s a small hole in the centre of the gag so he can sip from the water bottle. I sure don’t want him getting dehydrated and if there’s a fire or other emergency the floor will roll back and drop him down into the fortified sub-basement underneath where he’d be safe.
‘Did you miss your daddy?’ I ask as I open up the cage and unchain him. ‘Daddy missed you, yes he did.’
‘I’m bloody famished!’ he complains as soon as I take off the gag. ‘You could’ve left me something to eat!’
‘The last time I left you something to eat when you’d been bad you knocked it all over the floor in a fit of temper,’ I point out. ‘If you behaved yourself in the first place I wouldn’t have to punish you.’
‘Maybe if you didn’t punish me I wouldn’t try to escape,’ he snarls.
Well, like I said, he has a lot of pent-up energy and between that and being hungry it’s understandable he’s a little testy.
He calms down a bit eventually but keeps grumbling and complaining all the while I’m tying him down to the bed. He’s got a mouth like a sailor but I’ve heard it all before. When I first brought him home I was a little worried he wasn’t going to settle but I’m a pretty patient guy and most everyone responds to kindness. I think I’ve said before that I’m not the most handsome guy and I’m nobody’s idea of an exciting companion. But like I say, I’m patient and I’m observant, I’m not boasting, having good observational skills is part of my training, and the two things really help in bed. Observation skills are helpful when making sure that Sark is enjoying himself, especially when he’s gagged.
‘You’re not going to bloody gag me again are you?’ he asks suddenly as I tuck a pillow under his head.
‘Not if you don’t want me to,’ I say nicely.
‘Like you care what I want,’ he grumbles.
I finish securing him to the bed and stroke his cheek.
‘Aww, are you feeling unloved today?’
‘You had me in that little bloody cage all day,’ he mutters.
I sit down on the bed beside him and stroke his hair. ‘I don’t like doing that. If you were good I wouldn’t have to.’
‘I get so bored,’ he wheedles. ‘If you let me upstairs sometimes I know I wouldn’t get nearly as bored.’
It makes me smile because it’s so blatant, but I don’t mind. It’s sweet really, the way he wheedles and flutters his eyelashes at me. Sometimes it works, I mean I always know he’s doing it, but sometimes I indulge him a little. It’s so cute the way he smirks at getting one over on me.
‘Well I can’t let you up there until you’ve proved you can behave.’
I can always tell when he’s close. I’m a thoughtful sort of a guy and the signs are easy to see if you’re paying attention. Even if he’s face down and gagged I can tell by the way his muscles tense and the way his breath catches. There’s quite an art to it. Gauging how long to keep him gasping on the brink before letting him come is always a matter of judgement rather than anything else. Since he’s so keyed up today I think he’s going to need more of a release than usual so I better let him build up a proper head of steam before he comes.
‘Please... please... oh God... please...’
It’s the only time he ever says “please” but that’s okay, people forget to say please and thank you all the time. If you go through life waiting for people to make a song and dance about the things you do for them then you’re going to be disappointed and that’s a fact. If it was such a big deal for me then I wouldn’t have brought Sark home as he’s the naughty, cheeky sort and they’re always more likely to pout or stamp their feet than say thanks. It’s cute really, especially when he sulks and glowers.
He’s still pretty tense afterwards, his shoulders are pretty knotted up and he’s sleepy rather than having fallen into a deep sleep.
‘Oh God, what’re you doing now?’ he mutters. ‘Not the fucking machine!’
‘You’re still quite keyed up,’ I explain, untying his ankles and fixing them into stirrups to alter the angle. ‘Daddy is only human so I’m just going to finish exercising you with this while I make us something to eat.’
‘You don’t have to! I can just...’
‘Shush now.’ I slip a ballgag into his mouth and strap it behind his head. He keeps trying to talk around the gag as I finish getting everything ready and turn on the machine. He’s probably a little sensitive so I start it fairly slow and shallow. After a few minutes, he’s still moaning so I turn it up a little before going upstairs to make dinner.
The problem is of course that what Sark wants and what he needs are radically different prospects. It’d be easy to give him what he wants and to spoil him something awful but what good would that do him? No good, that’s what. Instead, I have to be the bad guy and give him what he needs rather than indulging him totally. Not that I don’t indulge him from time to time. I’m only human after all and Sark can be very affectionate in his own way when he thinks that he’s got one over on me. Like I said, he’s the naughty type. It’s endearing really.
He’s lying quiet on the bed when I carry down our dinner. Poor little guy is finally worn out it seems like. I put down the plates and turn off the machine. He makes a soft mewing noise when I pull it back and let him down out of the stirrups.
‘That’s better now isn’t it?’
He closes his eyes and shifts slightly as I take out the gag.
‘I’ve brought you some dinner. It’s a nice lasagne, you know you always like my lasagne,’ I say as I untie him. ‘Work with me Sark, upsy daisy.’
‘Won’t let me eat when I’m hungry. Won’t let me sleep when I’m tired,’ he mutters.
‘My poor baby.’
He gives me the stinkeye but opens his mouth to let me feed him. That’s how it some days, he bitches and moans and makes life as difficult as possible but in the end, he always comes around.
The End
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-09-01 09:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-02 05:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-03 02:59 am (UTC)This was all kinds of dirty hot fun!! Loved it!! <3333
no subject
Date: 2010-09-03 03:07 pm (UTC)