[ Listen: when Toji grips the back of his shirt, Choso's breath hitches with the shudder that wracks him, voice catching in his throat in a guttural noise. He can't even make room to regret the garment; it's gone from his notice the moment it's ripped from his body. The noise of its destruction will be its legacy, surely. He's got other things to worry about.
Like how Toji's grip is a perfect vise, pinning Choso in place while his vision begins to fuzz and pound in time with his pulse, a darkening at the edges in delicate threads. It is a humiliation in itself to feel the ease with which the man contains him; the blood beginning to pool within the sheets shudders, a thrum in perfect time with the heavy thud of Choso's pulse against Toji's fingers. The smell of leather has begun to overcome the familiar tang of his own blood, the drag of something-- the crop, it must be. The drag of the crop has Choso swallowing, struggling to swallow, hands clawing blunt and useless at machine-count sheets as he lowers himself flat to the mattress, knees pressed tight together, ankles crossing like one more gate to kick open.
He did say he wanted Toji to work for it. But lo, a query. What does he have to say? ]
I cannot wait, [ and it's gasped, puffed into the blood-damp sheet stuck to his cheek ] to taste your blood between my teeth.
[ It’s at this point in time that Toji takes a moment to appreciate the canvas he’s about to paint; green eyes surveying the curve of his shoulder and down the side of his body, sweeping across the rounds of muscle along his back. It’s hard to not follow the dip his spine makes, all the way down to a sculpted back end that is perfect to lash. His eyes flick back up when Choso speaks and he leans down close, the stench of his blood overpowering Toji’s senses as he gets closer. His chest nearly melds into Choso’s back as he purrs into his ear, enjoying the rhythmic serenade of the man’s throbbing heart beat. Music to his ears. ]
You don’t get to do that until I say so. Biting.. that’s what animals do. That’s what you are. That’s why I picked this. Do you know what it is?
[ He flutters the soft end of the crop against his partner’s thigh, still teasing so gently, it almost tickles. ]
It’s used on animals, who are dirty and nasty like you.
[ The warmth of his body is gone as he straightens his posture, the sound of leather being heard again as he tightens the loop around his wrist and hand. ]
[ Without much warning, Toji uses the bare end of the leather to spank Choso, right along the softest part of his ass. It whizzes through the air he is almost certain he can feel a gust, and the sound it makes when striking claps like thunder.
He’s relentless in hitting him again, making a mark just above the previous one. There’s no need for him to confront any emotions that is going through his mind right now; not when there’s someone so willing to let him beat the shit out of him. It’s mind numbing for him, too, as he thinks of pent up anger he’s worn on his shoulders for so long. Anger at his family, anger at society, anger at himself. Toji doesn’t have a temper to release those sorts of feelings. Fighting, well. He enjoys that, but nothing delights him more than being able to strike someone in a sexual manner. ]
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Like how Toji's grip is a perfect vise, pinning Choso in place while his vision begins to fuzz and pound in time with his pulse, a darkening at the edges in delicate threads. It is a humiliation in itself to feel the ease with which the man contains him; the blood beginning to pool within the sheets shudders, a thrum in perfect time with the heavy thud of Choso's pulse against Toji's fingers. The smell of leather has begun to overcome the familiar tang of his own blood, the drag of something-- the crop, it must be. The drag of the crop has Choso swallowing, struggling to swallow, hands clawing blunt and useless at machine-count sheets as he lowers himself flat to the mattress, knees pressed tight together, ankles crossing like one more gate to kick open.
He did say he wanted Toji to work for it. But lo, a query. What does he have to say? ]
I cannot wait, [ and it's gasped, puffed into the blood-damp sheet stuck to his cheek ] to taste your blood between my teeth.
1/2
You don’t get to do that until I say so. Biting.. that’s what animals do. That’s what you are. That’s why I picked this. Do you know what it is?
[ He flutters the soft end of the crop against his partner’s thigh, still teasing so gently, it almost tickles. ]
It’s used on animals, who are dirty and nasty like you.
[ The warmth of his body is gone as he straightens his posture, the sound of leather being heard again as he tightens the loop around his wrist and hand. ]
2/2
[ Without much warning, Toji uses the bare end of the leather to spank Choso, right along the softest part of his ass. It whizzes through the air he is almost certain he can feel a gust, and the sound it makes when striking claps like thunder.
He’s relentless in hitting him again, making a mark just above the previous one. There’s no need for him to confront any emotions that is going through his mind right now; not when there’s someone so willing to let him beat the shit out of him. It’s mind numbing for him, too, as he thinks of pent up anger he’s worn on his shoulders for so long. Anger at his family, anger at society, anger at himself. Toji doesn’t have a temper to release those sorts of feelings. Fighting, well. He enjoys that, but nothing delights him more than being able to strike someone in a sexual manner. ]
Depends on how you behave.