sixthiterationlogs | I accused him there with his tortured lamb

Entry tags:

I accused him there with his tortured lamb

WHO: Bobo Del Rey
WHERE: Butcher Shop, South village
WHEN: Throughout November
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Talk of animal death and slaughter

There was a time when most of Bobo's life wasn't taken up with drinking and herding revenant cats and general being a fairly psychotic bastard. It's a time over a century in the past, and until coming to this place, he's been glad to leave it in the past, as buried as the man that had caused the curse that had changed everything for Bobo. This place though, it's like a damn time capsule in many ways, and it is finding a way to get under his skin and stir up memories of a man long dead though his body continues on.

He had once been a man who helped, whose entire life was devoted to another, to doing what he could for his town and for a hundred plus years he has lamented that being that man had caused him not only to die - that he was prepared for - but to be cursed and damned for it. People paid for that, yet now in this place, that all feels like someone distant, just as Robert Svane has felt to Bobo for so long.

Here in this place, everything has changed and much as he might deny it, Bobo is changing with it. Including needing to do more than cause hate and discontent. A talk with Margaery at the inn led him to spending a few days hunting and trekking through the areas to the north, away from others for the most part. Trying to clear his mind, to remember who he is, not was. Except even that didn't work. That man who died apparently wasn't nearly as gone and forgotten as Bobo likes to believe. In the end he ended up at the butcher shop with his coat hung on a nail, water brought up from the river and set to work scrubbing the place down.

Taking more time than he had so far with the house since poisoning the village is not acceptable. Working hard, harder than he has in a long while, using the soap left there on the counter and rags he made from those damn walking blanket things. It takes several days, leaving the doors and windows open to air the place out as he goes. Going so far that the first night he just curls up with his coat, not wanting to make the hike back to the North village.

By the end of the first week, the place is clean enough you could eat off the floor. Or at the very least eat what is killed and slaughtered there and likely not die. Maybe killing things isn't the best therapy for the aggression he still feels, the nature of the beast as it were, but he figures it isn't hurting people so, for now, it will work. Both for his own kills and, if others bring them in, butchering items for others in the village as well.

Eventually he can be found there most of the daylight hours slaughtering those creature he kills. Using that space to butcher them, and to cure and tan the hides. Some of the meat and fish he takes over to the Inn. Some of it he starts processing with red salt, hoping it will do the same as the salt curing he'd done before. Some he puts out on racks to dry, thinking he can turn it into pemmican for the winter.

Some days he can be found scrounging wood, looking to build a smoking shed out back to use on the salted meat when it's ready, knowing he's starting too late in the season to hold them all through the winter, but he doesn't care. He cares that some of the oppressive weight of hatred and loathing is lifted from his shoulders while he works, and for now that is enough.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Bull smiles slightly when he is called beautiful. It is not a word often used to describe him. When Bobo's fingers are on his cheek he glances up at him, licking his lips.

"No. Not a lot of people who I trust to see me like this or to tie me up." Bobo's on a short list of people. Bull leans into the touch some.
"It's been a couple of years now."

Intimacy is something that Bobo has been denied for a long time. Perhaps most of his life. Even when it had appeared in his life, it was more often in the form of sex and fulfilling those needs.

This though is something new, and exciting, and something that he's never experienced before.

"Never had anybody trust me like this," he admits, curling his fingers along one harm, exploring a moment, just savoring what Bull has given him. "Not ever in my life," he adds, even as he moves behind him once more. Testing the ropes, feeling more secure now as he adjusts them a bit to apply more pressure.

Bull takes a breath as the ropes tighten, just closing his eyes and focuses on the way they tighten around his body, the feeling of being held like that. "Their loss, you're good at this." His voice is quiet, calm and with notes of just purely being content. Even past the turn on and the promise of sex here, there is more. There is the two of them trusting each other, one willingly giving the other controll and the other rising to the occasion to take it.

Then Bull looks over at him, smiling slightly. "You want to kick it up a notch? Blindfold me."

Oddly enough it's not the first time Bobo has tightened a rope around a man, though it's never been anything like this. It was cruel, violent, aggressive in a way meant to incite fear and panic. This is exhilarating on so many levels. Terrifying in a way for a man that hasn't had trust from another in his lifetime, who hasn't shared a lot of intimacies.

Stepping back then, just looking Bull over. His expression, the play of ropes over flesh. Even the sound of his voice is soothing in a way that Bobo can only find as being described as a balm.

"How can I tell you no?"

Moving to get one of the knives that aren't ever that far from him, Bobo uses it to actually cut a long strip from a piece of clean cloth. Coming in closer, slowly circling behind Bull. His touch firm but gentle as he ties it over his eyes.

Taking his time as he pulled it tight without knotting it. Not yet. Leaning in, kissing Bull's shoulder. "Honestly, is that too tight?"

"You can tell me no if you don't want it." Bull grins as the cloth is placed over his eyes and he gives himself a second to just feel it. "No, that is good. It is not uncomfortable but it is tight enough that I can't see." Which is exactly what they want.

He smiles to himself at the way Bobo checks in with him. The way his hands are on him. Bobo is better at this than he might think and that is one of the reasons Bull trusts him like this. He licks his lips, he smile fading into something calm. "Thank you, sir."

"If I didn't want to do this, you'd know," he murmurs, too selfish and too invested in his own self interest to do anything that he truly didn't want. Yet this goes beyond just what he's getting out of it. There's the side of things where he's giving this to Bull, and that he wants to give him this. That's the part where it's all so new and confusing to Bobo.

"Fucking Hell." Softly sighing out the words as those three words from Bull seem to go straight through him. He kisses Bull then, suddenly. Hard, demanding, taking as much as he gives as his fingers curl into the ropes over Bull's chest, barely twisting them to toy with the tightness.

It takes Bull a split second to respond to the kiss, mostly because he didn't see it coming, litterally. But when he does it is with plenty of eagerness on his own. He lets Bobo control the kiss, but he does his damn best to leave no doubt about how much he wants this. The hand on the ropes, tightening them slightly is enough to make him sigh with peasure.

"That feels good." He smiles. "And I take it you liked to be called sir?"

"Can't say I've ever been called that before,' he whispers, his mouth barely breaking from the kiss, feeling that smile curve against his own lips. Nipping at his bottom lip, not aiming to hurt with the sensation as Bobo slowly edges back but doesn't release his hold on the bindings.

"I like when you say it though," he admits, using the way he's moving back to change the pressure on the ropes. Mostly testing, watching Bull to see how he responds, what he responds best too. Six months ago, a year, any time in the last century, and Bobo would have taken advantage of a moment like this, used it against someone until they were begging for the kind of mercy only death can bring. Now he's looking for an entirely different sort of sounds, and just what it might take to get Bull there.

Bull makes a fake little growl at the nip, playful and eager at that. Then the ropes tighten some more and his breath catches before a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. He breathes into it for a moment, relaxing a little more with each exhale.

"Keep doing that and I'll be calling you that a lot more often, sir." And he means it. Giving up control like this, giving it to someone you trust is something Bull hasn't done much and it is intoxicating when he gets to do it. He shifts against the ropes, wishing he could reach out and pull Bobo in for another kiss.

Already sexy in his own right, every little reaction is delicious and Bobo knows he's going to encourage this happening again. Depending on how long he keeps it going now, because there's nothing in Bobo that has any desire to stop. Not now.

"I do think you're trying to encourage me," he murmurs, knowing that it is going to work, and he's glad for it as well. There's things in this place that Bobo needs, and this, all that he's shared with Bull, is definitely part of that. Even just this, being so close to one another and only touching for the briefest of times and yet Bobo feeling more from it than he has from much else in years.

He chuckles softly as he sways, brushing against Bull intentionally but only in soft, fleeting moments that are intentional on Bobo's part. "I think this is the first time I've missed the internet. I can't imagine the interesting and beautiful ways I could find to bind you," he says, leaning in until his lips are nearly brushing Bull's. "I guess I'm going to have to learn through trial and error, hmmm?"

Bull sighs as the gentle touches do nothing more than make him want more, make him crave the touches and Bobo's voice. His breath catches when Bobo leans closer and he tries to lean in for a kiss. "That is how I learned. That and a teacher. " Any other time he would have added some snarky comment but right now he doesn't want to, right now he actually wants to be good for Bobo.

"Then I'm lucky to have you and this beautiful body to teach me," he murmurs, leaning back enough not to give into the kiss. Not at first.

When he does, it's almost chaste. The way he tugs once more at the ropes though, a slow and steady pull at one end to slowly tighten them along Bull's body, that is anything but chaste.

Bull groans at the two contradicting sensations. The rope tightening, trapping him, putting him more under Bobo's power and reminding him just how much of a turn on this is. And then the kiss, chaste and sweet and still so utterly in control of him. He moans softly, practically begging for more. Then he glances at Bobo's crotch before he glances up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Please?"

Bobo's control of others for years has been violence and aggression. There is something so utterly amazing about that control coming with control of its own. That it's about pleasure and not damage done. There is something so primal in this, and yet it brings him to a place where he feels stronger in himself than he has in years. Than perhaps he has ever felt in his life.

Bobo chuckles, and it's a deep sound, darker than his motions because he may be learning about himself but he's not entirely changed either.

"Oh I think you should use words," he teases, even as he tightens the ropes about Bull's broad chest, making that harder as he makes those demands. "I think you should ask."

Bull groans as the rope is tightened, fighting against it for a moment as his eyes grow darker with lust. There is a challenge open on his face for a moment, threatening to give Bobo a fight for domination. Then he looks down licking his lips. "May I suck your cock, sir?" He looks up, a mix of hopeful and also expectant on his face.

There's a power coursing through Bobo in that moment, feeling that gaze going through him. Knowing that he might be asking too much, pushing limits they had ever established. Things are changing between them, and Bobo realizes that he never could have known to ask for this, willing and eager between them and not fear and groveling.

And knowing he doesn't have a desire to lose it. Or to deny Bull truly.

"How can I tell you no?"

Already dropping one hand to his waistband and working it open, groaning as air caressed heated skin as he pulled open his trousers. Through it all he kept hold of the rope. "Jesus," he groans, achingly hard already.

That is just about all the invitation Bull needs. He strains against the ropes to get close enough to wrap his lips around Bobo's cock, just the head at first. Just teasing for now, tongue playing with what he is pretty sure is some sensitive spots. Then slowly he takes more and more until he's got all of Bobo. He closes his eyes, his face going almost peaceful as he focuses on giving the best damn head Bobo's ever had.

For Bobo this is already the best things have been for him. The connection shared in those moments before, the trust that he's been given from Bull, and already that makes this amazing. Or so he thought.

Just the teasing alone makes him groan loudly, his free hand moving to caress along Bull's horn, enjoying the sensations of heat and rope digging into his hand. "Mmm, that's it. God, that's good," he murmurs, eyes half hooded as he rocks his weight back to lock his knees as they tremble at the sensations.

Bull purrs at the praise and he picks up the pace some, sucking eagerly and moving just enough to make it mindblowingly good. He smiles slightly to himself, his eyes closed as he works enjoying being in this position as well, giving Bobo pleasure without really thinking about the hardon he has himself.

There is no such thing as focus, no way to think of anything but the heat and pleasure of Bull's beautiful mouth, the energy he puts into all of this. He's beautiful, and sexy, and God but Bobo could get lost in all of this. Especially because he's more than just sex, and there's now this trust and it leaves Bobo weak in the knees. Literally.

Twisting his hand against the rope, moaning as he rocks his hips, driving against Bull's mouth with low, rumbling sounds.

"That's it. God damn, that's it," he groans, shuddering, knowing he can't even last. Not with the way Bull does these things to him, leaving him panting, trying to find a way to control himself but he can't. Not when Bull does these things. "Fuck. Bull..."

He cries out, the sound sharp and brittle as he tries to warn him before coming. Eyes rolling back as he very nearly blacks out in the moment, knees buckling, barely catching himself as he uses those same rope holds to not just crumple on the ground before Bull.

Bull hums with pleasure as he can feel Bobo's climax approaching, eagerly helping him over the edge there. He gladly licks Bobo clean once he is sure that he isn't going to pass out. Bull knows he is good but that good, that had been a while since last time.

"I take it you like that, sir?" He grins up at Bobo.

Staring down at Bull, panting hard from his release and from how he looks, how beautiful and eager and utterly magnificent he looks like this. Slowly sliding to his knees before Bull, his hand stroking over his cheek, down along his chest and stomach until his fingers brush over Bull's cock.

"Seems I'm not the only one that enjoyed it," he murmurs, curling his fingers around him and stroking.

Bull's breath hitches as Bobo's hand find his cock and he can't help but thrust against him. "Fuck yes. Yes, sir" He squirms, his cock so hard it hurts. "Please, more. "

"You look so good like this," he murmurs, curling his fingers around Bull's cock, loving the thickness, the heat against his fingers as he strokes him. No teasing but not fast either. Leaning in as Bobo nuzzles at his cheek, along his jaw.

"So needy. It's a good look for you too," he whispers. "Especially when you're bound like this, all mine."

"Glad you like it, sir. I like being bound for you." Bull moans softly, thrusting into the hand. Fuck it wasn't going to take much, especially with Bobo whispering those things to him and nuzzling him like that. "Bobo.. I... fuck that feels good."

I accused him there with his tortured lamb

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)