[The Express was at Penacony. Something to do with the Stellaron-- but this time Dan Heng is in the Reverie solo, while the others took the Express to handle an emergency on a nearby planet.
But it's fine. He's worked alone before, and he'll have to again.
Still, there's a buzz on the streets, both in the waking and sleeping worlds, about the Express having been by. Hard to miss, for someone like Blade.
Dan Heng quickly falls into a schedule of spending most of his time in the soporific tub, much like many in Penacony. But rather than losing himself in the excesses of the dream, he's investigating, digging deeper and deeper into the seedier parts of the dream. And as he does, his body lays in the waking world, defended only by a locked door.]
[You'd think he'd have had the sulking session of the millennia after the entire Quintet reunion and everything, but Blade had gone past that and sunk into a depression so deep and encompassing he'd missed Firefly starting her mission. The grief bled into despair, which fed the mara, and he had a grand time eviscerating two clutches of floating borisin before he'd caught some excited interstellar radio chatter about the Express.
So this is how it comes to happen. What this is:
Dan Heng might start noticing - the wind? A breeze? A phantom press of something soft against his forehead. An invisible touch cradling his jaw, gentle, tucking hair behind his ear. Would it be only the sensation, or would it also be the motion?
Blade does not give a fuck, as back in the real world, he pries those soft, plush lips, those dangerous fangs open to hilt three fingers straight into his dragon's throat, pressing down on his tongue.]
[Dan Heng is truly a vision like this. He's in his normie disguise, but since he wasn't in a rush or expecting guests, he stripped down to nothing before climbing in the tub. No use in doing unnecessary laundry. So like this, reclined in the shell-shaped tub, he's like an offering. An indecent parody of the Imbibitor Lunae, especially with Blade stuffing fingers down his sleep-easy throat, past the fangs he's never quite fully willed away.
In the dream, he feels this only vaguely. The motion of it registers less than the strange play of wind across his face, the urge to clear his throat. But he's tailing someone, right now, so he keeps quiet, just swallows pointedly and peers at the retreating back of his mark.
In reality, he simply swallows around Blade's fingers, still peacefully sleeping.]
[There's a certain flavor to having the living corpse of his husband naked and vulnerable like this, when Blade is fully dressed, bandages already starting to dye the dreampool pink.
He leans in. Dips his head next to the rounded shell of Dan Heng's ear.]
Mine.
[The fingers withdraw from his mouth. Something bites his lower lip, worrying at it, before it trails down to his jaw: wet, bruising kisses, and a full-out bite at the join of his shoulder and neck, trying to draw blood with blunt, human teeth.]
[He can't hear that claim. Can't fight back or respond to any of the marks. Even with that harsh bite, his only outward response is a hitch in his breathing, a faint furrowing of his brow in his sleep, body still deliciously lax against Blade even as the taste of blood blooms in his mouth.
In the dream, Dan Heng shakes off the barest ghosts of strange sensation, and prepares to dart from his current hiding place to another. It looks like his mark won't turn, so he goes-- and a sudden cramp(?) in his shoulder trips him up, has him hip checking a crate he meant to slip past noiselessly, making enough of a sound that he has to drop behind it instead of his intended place when his target tenses up. Shit.]
[He can crouch in there just in time to catch: Blade licking his way down the valley of his sternum- and biting down on one of his pecs, nearly mauling it, lifting him out of the water just enough so he could see those nipples pebble and harden in the cold.
He laves at one with a mara-warm tongue, and sucks, edged with teeth the exact same way he'd remembered Dan Feng liked.]
[The temperature change comes through, befuddling. Stress doesn't normally make Dan Heng feel sudden cold: that particular correlation goes the other way around.
But he can't focus on that, or on the brush of his shirt against his abruptly peaked nipples. Is it really that cold out of nowhere? Surely not, in Penacony's sweet dream-- but he can't think about that! He covers his own mouth to silence his uneven breathing fully, listens for the footsteps of the individual he's tailing drawing closer.
In reality, Dan Heng's breathing is starting to pick up, a flush creeping down his chest just the way Blade remembers as he bullies the slack but responsive body.]
Your mouth says one thing but this body is always honest.
[Dan Feng was the same way, from what he could remember. He'd make Yingxing work for it, every time, whether Yingxing was under or over him; a man so verbally glacial until he gave in to how his body begged for Yingxing's warmth.
Blade lays him down higher up the curve of the dream pool, so that the water laps up at his navel. He parts Dan Heng's legs wide, settling between them, grinding his rapidly-filling cock against a thigh with a groan. The water's warm, the perfect temperature for a soak--
But Dan Heng will be warmer inside, when Blade mercilessly fucks three fingers into that defenceless cunt.]
[This isn't good. Something is wrong. The footsteps come closer, but he can barely track them with how all the air has just vacated his lungs. Whatever is going on with Penacony's dream-- it's getting worse. He has to make a break for it, and hope it doesn't fuck up his work so far.
In the tub, his breath catches, body so very tight around Blade's fingers, but obligingly warm, just as he knew it would be.]
[What a beautiful little doll. Blade could do anything and Dan Heng would be able to do nothing but to take it.
He dips his head to bite at his lower lip, tear blood from it, as he contemplates the wealth of possibilities...
The fingers start to move, then, rough and calloused, three to four too soon. He yanks the glove off his other one and starts to coax him out from his vent, the slick thick and viscous even in water. Every move here is muscle memory, every touch, every curl of his fingers deep a dance he's done before to take his beloved apart. It's unrelenting, backed with Blade's immortal stamina; Dan Heng might as well be bound to a fucking machine.]
[In the dream, he runs. His target called in lackeys, so it's all he can do to flee, to try and find his way past the closing net of enemies, while his body heats up, and strange twinges of pleasure and pain shake through him-- Is that slick running down his leg? Fuck.
Speaking of dolls, his lip bleeds so prettily, without him fighting back, that the smear of it could almost be lipstick.
His cocks are timid, hesitant to emerge at first, but he doesn't have a chance of them staying inside for long. With Blade attacking his weak points with such expertise, they slip fully free before long, his most defenseless parts exposed before the man he fears most.]
[He reaches up to smear the blood with a thumb, painting it like it's rouge - the sight of it makes his cock throb.]
Are you dreaming of me, beloved?
[It's with a fanatical gentleness that he gathers up the slick and starts working Dan Heng's ass open - all of these belong to him, so he should be able to use them as he sees fit.
Even as he scissors him open with precise strokes, the bare minimum. Even when he summons Shard Sword from the aether, lovingly pressing the thin of it against the pelvic artery, thinking how easy it would be to cut him here and let his lifeblood dye the waters. Even when he takes more of that slick and coats the hilt of it, cold metal and leather, and ever so slowly pushes it in, watching Dan Heng's face--]
[Considering he's dreaming of running for his life, it's not FAR from dreaming of Blade--
The separation between his dreaming mind and his body in reality is growing thinner. Penacony's dream is designed not to allow forced awakenings, yes, but there's also usually not so much stimulus coming from the side of reality to contend with. He's not waking by any means, but more and more he's feeling what's happening to his body.
This means his cocks start to unsheathe while he's running for his life, the hypersensitive usually-internal organs rubbing against his underwear as he flees, severely hampering his movements. When he feels coldpainstretch vaguely in his lower body, he's giving up on flight and literally diving into a dumpster to hope he won't be found. Luckily dream garbage isn't too nasty overall, because he's fumbling with his pants to free his strangled cocks, his other hand clasped over his mouth and nose.
In reality, the hilt of Shard Sword breaching him gets more of a reaction than most things up until now. Dan Heng doesn't like the cold, winces and furrows his brows and squirms as nothing else has made him yet, an almost subvocal sound of displeasure escaping his lips and his thighs twitching together defensively, though without much strength to them.]
[He only pushes the hilt in halfway, doing it more for the humiliation of it rather than to actually fuck him, but he leaves it there, for the dear Imbibitor Lunae to squirm on. How disgusting is it to be impaled on the same sword for the second time? Could he force the dragon to come out, from hiding?
He leans down to suckle more abuse at a hardened nipple, until it's red and puffy, and then sits back on his haunches - perhaps jostling Shard Sword a little too meanly - so he can smack the flat of his hand against Dan Heng's pussy.]
[only Blade had ever forced him out of his disguise, and with this sword, too. the more it presses into him, the more his body recognizes that and tries to reject it, clenching too-tight around it, wisps of cloudhymn starting to shed from him like ribbons of water.
the overwhelming pleasurepain heat from his chest combines with the hilt of Shard Sword moving rough inside him, making him squirm more with a low moan of complaint, and the blow to his cunt has his whole body jerking, drawing tighter, trying to curl in on himself defensively with a ragged little sound. is... his hair getting longer?
in the Dream, it's all Dan Heng can do to not make the same sounds, stuffing his own fingers in his mouth to quiet himself as he curls up just as tightly, tears pricking at his eyes.]
[How can anyone blame him for being confused, when the dragon beneath his hands responds in the same way? Beautifully, blooming for him... Dan Feng used to cry so prettily, once he fell apart far enough.
Slap after slap, on the soft, vulnerable skin of his inner thighs, back to the slick of his cunt, jostling him up the dreampool, fascinated. It's only when the flesh nearly glows red with abuse that Blade cruelly jerks Shard Sword out, replacing it with his thumb, hooking into the hole and stretching it.]
[the more pain Blade inflicts on him, the more his cloudhymn slips. his horns bubble into reality, and his hair unfurls, with its damning red streak. but of course, it's not only pain, not with how blade has worked him over, and the humming in his nerves, vibrating hot and overwhelming through him, feels like pleasure as well.
pulling Shard Sword out is a final blow of sorts, and the other fingers on the hand with Blade's bullying thumb will brush against Dan Heng's tail slithering free of its magical prison. the dream tub is suddenly overflowing with the added bulk, and even then a solid length of his tail drapes over the opposite end of the tub and onto the floor. his tears are flowing just as freely in his sleep, are his slurred little noises and uncoordinated writhing.
Dan Heng in the dream is a mess. he wants to flee these feelings, but he can't. they're starting to feel more real than the dream around him, and he'd be trying to work out a way out of this, but he can't think.
the most he can come up with is to reach down with the hand not trying to muffle himself and paw at his own cocks, try to find some kind of relief from all this.]
[There's the sensation, then, of a wet tongue lapping at his tears, soft whispers against his temple. Kisses on his brow, his forehead, his nose. The corner of his mouth, jaw cradled in a warm hand.
And then: the blunt head of Blade's cock, fucking into his ass, sheathed to the hilt immediately. With Dan Heng asleep there's no resistance at all. He's little more than a warm and wet cocksleeve, as he should be, and Blade grinds his hips upwards at the exact angle that made Dan Feng mewl.]
[he's so, so wet and easy like this. after the hilt of Shard Sword, Blade's cock is a relief. huge and overwhelming, yes, stretching him so much so fast, but warm. warm and nostalgic, with the other gentler touches, and the way his sweet spots are instantly targeted makes a soft moan drip from his sleeping lips.
in the dream, dan heng wets his fingers with the slick dripping from his own cocks and vent, and reaches back to stuff two fingers into his ass, too quick and rough, like at least making the feelings inflicting themselves on him make some sort of sense will help. the kissing, licking up his tears, the warm, secure feeling of a solid hand cradling his jaw... he can't make sense of it, especially not with everything else. this... surely isn't an effect of the dream.]
You must really want this. Your body recognizes me even if you don't. You've always belonged to me, husband.
[He thrusts in, languid, savoring the heat. Both of his hands come up, now, one to brush the sweat-sticky bangs out of Dan Heng's face, the other to pet his cheek, reverent.
And then: strong, calloused fingers on his horns. Slick and warm and practiced all at once, like they're used to playing with the translucent keratin, nails dragging into the join of horn and scalp. Blade sinking in deep as he folds Dan Heng in half, as he takes the tip of a horn into his lips and sucks.]
[Dan Heng's sweet, unconscious sounds spill freer from him, with the play with his sensitive horns, though the way he's been folded in half adds a husky note of strain to his voice. His soaking wet lengths bob eagerly, making contact with Blade's belly, at this level of closeness.
The Dan Heng in the dream dumpster is, on the other hand, having a panic attack. Those are his horns he's feeling. Whoever is touching him in the waking world-- for that's the only option at this point-- is sucking on his horns, has drawn them out in the first place. That's terrifying. But the terror isn't enough to keep him from fucking himself on his fingers, trying to find some kind of release so he can do something about this.]
[Perhaps he can hear the echo of a deranged giggle, so close to a pointed ear. Perhaps he can feel how teeth crunch down on the keratin, like it's trying to bite through it.
Perhaps then, he can feel, how the touch disappears, replaced by a tight, firm grip, on both horns, like reins as he's fucked in the ass in earnest, brutal, merciless, powerful thrusts.
Perhaps he can feel as one of those hands start to pull too hard, too far - as it starts to bend the horn beyond what it can take, cracks splintering through the material. As it pushes through, snapping it off at the base.]
[he feels it. feels it, but doesn't understand, at first. not past the way he's being fucked, the uncompromising drilling against all his sweet spots--
his consciousness snaps into his body as finally, finally, the dream's overrides in case of emergency kick in. he's screaming, whole body siezing tight under and around blade and his cock.]
[That's what greets Dan Heng when he wakes into his own personal nightmare. Blade fucks that broken horn into his scream, straight into the back of his throat.]
[Blade hauls him up against the headboard-like edge of the pool by the other horn, taking the scratches as well as he'd taken any injury Dan Heng has given him - with unbridled, violent joy. A line of crimson blooms down his cheekbone.]
Does it hurt, husband?
[He'd played like this, before, with Dan Feng. It was Dan Feng's idea, too, and he had been the one to convince Yingxing to go through with it. It took a year for it to grow back, but that was with Dan Feng knowing exactly what to to do help it along.
He pulls the broken thing out of Dan Heng's mouth. Spit glistens in a thin thread between the sacred material and Dan Heng's screams.]
[his tail thrashes helplessly between Blade's thighs. the tears that already flowed in Dan Heng's sleep aren't slowing now, but there's anger and fear in it now, rather than just overstimulation-- not that he's not overstimulated. he was already overwhelmed in the dream, but the reality of the situation is much, much starker, and the best he can do to protect his remaining horn is snap his mouth closed, try to stifle the horrible noises he can't quite stop making as he- what? adjusts? it's all he can do right now.]
[He pulls out, just enough to keep the head of his cock sheathed in his ass - and he teases the already-stretched rim with the blunt tip of the horn he'd just broken. He's pulled Dan Heng forward by his intact horn, forcing him to curl over to look at how he pushes his own broken horn in, up until it catches on one of the branches, hooking against his hole.]
[he bites his lip bloody, seeing and feeling that-- the horror of it, the stretch, the way he can't help but clench tighter still as if to reject it. oh, and the closed-mouthed keening. but he's not in control of that.]
[He turns the horn. The branch of it grinds against his cock, this time, and he slowly, ever so slowly pushes it in; the stretch of it this fast would burn. He'd know it; Dan Feng had sobbed it at him, too.]
[this way, the branch of his own horn doesn't rip him open, but it's still a lot of added bulk pressing in alongside Blade's cock, and it burns just as the man who haunts him knew it would. Dan Heng trembles, moaning in misery but nonetheless unable to keep the edge of lingering pleasure from the sound. everything's all tangled up in his nerves. even his cocks won't soften.]
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headlocked2024-08-18 08:16 pm
SOMNO TIME
But it's fine. He's worked alone before, and he'll have to again.
Still, there's a buzz on the streets, both in the waking and sleeping worlds, about the Express having been by. Hard to miss, for someone like Blade.
Dan Heng quickly falls into a schedule of spending most of his time in the soporific tub, much like many in Penacony. But rather than losing himself in the excesses of the dream, he's investigating, digging deeper and deeper into the seedier parts of the dream. And as he does, his body lays in the waking world, defended only by a locked door.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
So this is how it comes to happen. What this is:
Dan Heng might start noticing - the wind? A breeze? A phantom press of something soft against his forehead. An invisible touch cradling his jaw, gentle, tucking hair behind his ear. Would it be only the sensation, or would it also be the motion?
Blade does not give a fuck, as back in the real world, he pries those soft, plush lips, those dangerous fangs open to hilt three fingers straight into his dragon's throat, pressing down on his tongue.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
In the dream, he feels this only vaguely. The motion of it registers less than the strange play of wind across his face, the urge to clear his throat. But he's tailing someone, right now, so he keeps quiet, just swallows pointedly and peers at the retreating back of his mark.
In reality, he simply swallows around Blade's fingers, still peacefully sleeping.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
He leans in. Dips his head next to the rounded shell of Dan Heng's ear.]
Mine.
[The fingers withdraw from his mouth. Something bites his lower lip, worrying at it, before it trails down to his jaw: wet, bruising kisses, and a full-out bite at the join of his shoulder and neck, trying to draw blood with blunt, human teeth.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
In the dream, Dan Heng shakes off the barest ghosts of strange sensation, and prepares to dart from his current hiding place to another. It looks like his mark won't turn, so he goes-- and a sudden cramp(?) in his shoulder trips him up, has him hip checking a crate he meant to slip past noiselessly, making enough of a sound that he has to drop behind it instead of his intended place when his target tenses up. Shit.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
He laves at one with a mara-warm tongue, and sucks, edged with teeth the exact same way he'd remembered Dan Feng liked.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
But he can't focus on that, or on the brush of his shirt against his abruptly peaked nipples. Is it really that cold out of nowhere? Surely not, in Penacony's sweet dream-- but he can't think about that! He covers his own mouth to silence his uneven breathing fully, listens for the footsteps of the individual he's tailing drawing closer.
In reality, Dan Heng's breathing is starting to pick up, a flush creeping down his chest just the way Blade remembers as he bullies the slack but responsive body.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
[Dan Feng was the same way, from what he could remember. He'd make Yingxing work for it, every time, whether Yingxing was under or over him; a man so verbally glacial until he gave in to how his body begged for Yingxing's warmth.
Blade lays him down higher up the curve of the dream pool, so that the water laps up at his navel. He parts Dan Heng's legs wide, settling between them, grinding his rapidly-filling cock against a thigh with a groan. The water's warm, the perfect temperature for a soak--
But Dan Heng will be warmer inside, when Blade mercilessly fucks three fingers into that defenceless cunt.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
In the tub, his breath catches, body so very tight around Blade's fingers, but obligingly warm, just as he knew it would be.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
He dips his head to bite at his lower lip, tear blood from it, as he contemplates the wealth of possibilities...
The fingers start to move, then, rough and calloused, three to four too soon. He yanks the glove off his other one and starts to coax him out from his vent, the slick thick and viscous even in water. Every move here is muscle memory, every touch, every curl of his fingers deep a dance he's done before to take his beloved apart. It's unrelenting, backed with Blade's immortal stamina; Dan Heng might as well be bound to a fucking machine.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
Speaking of dolls, his lip bleeds so prettily, without him fighting back, that the smear of it could almost be lipstick.
His cocks are timid, hesitant to emerge at first, but he doesn't have a chance of them staying inside for long. With Blade attacking his weak points with such expertise, they slip fully free before long, his most defenseless parts exposed before the man he fears most.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
Are you dreaming of me, beloved?
[It's with a fanatical gentleness that he gathers up the slick and starts working Dan Heng's ass open - all of these belong to him, so he should be able to use them as he sees fit.
Even as he scissors him open with precise strokes, the bare minimum. Even when he summons Shard Sword from the aether, lovingly pressing the thin of it against the pelvic artery, thinking how easy it would be to cut him here and let his lifeblood dye the waters. Even when he takes more of that slick and coats the hilt of it, cold metal and leather, and ever so slowly pushes it in, watching Dan Heng's face--]
Re: SOMNO TIME
The separation between his dreaming mind and his body in reality is growing thinner. Penacony's dream is designed not to allow forced awakenings, yes, but there's also usually not so much stimulus coming from the side of reality to contend with. He's not waking by any means, but more and more he's feeling what's happening to his body.
This means his cocks start to unsheathe while he's running for his life, the hypersensitive usually-internal organs rubbing against his underwear as he flees, severely hampering his movements. When he feels coldpainstretch vaguely in his lower body, he's giving up on flight and literally diving into a dumpster to hope he won't be found. Luckily dream garbage isn't too nasty overall, because he's fumbling with his pants to free his strangled cocks, his other hand clasped over his mouth and nose.
In reality, the hilt of Shard Sword breaching him gets more of a reaction than most things up until now. Dan Heng doesn't like the cold, winces and furrows his brows and squirms as nothing else has made him yet, an almost subvocal sound of displeasure escaping his lips and his thighs twitching together defensively, though without much strength to them.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
[He only pushes the hilt in halfway, doing it more for the humiliation of it rather than to actually fuck him, but he leaves it there, for the dear Imbibitor Lunae to squirm on. How disgusting is it to be impaled on the same sword for the second time? Could he force the dragon to come out, from hiding?
He leans down to suckle more abuse at a hardened nipple, until it's red and puffy, and then sits back on his haunches - perhaps jostling Shard Sword a little too meanly - so he can smack the flat of his hand against Dan Heng's pussy.]
Stop squirming.
Re: SOMNO TIME
the overwhelming pleasurepain heat from his chest combines with the hilt of Shard Sword moving rough inside him, making him squirm more with a low moan of complaint, and the blow to his cunt has his whole body jerking, drawing tighter, trying to curl in on himself defensively with a ragged little sound. is... his hair getting longer?
in the Dream, it's all Dan Heng can do to not make the same sounds, stuffing his own fingers in his mouth to quiet himself as he curls up just as tightly, tears pricking at his eyes.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
You haven't changed at all, Dan Feng.
[How can anyone blame him for being confused, when the dragon beneath his hands responds in the same way? Beautifully, blooming for him... Dan Feng used to cry so prettily, once he fell apart far enough.
Slap after slap, on the soft, vulnerable skin of his inner thighs, back to the slick of his cunt, jostling him up the dreampool, fascinated. It's only when the flesh nearly glows red with abuse that Blade cruelly jerks Shard Sword out, replacing it with his thumb, hooking into the hole and stretching it.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
pulling Shard Sword out is a final blow of sorts, and the other fingers on the hand with Blade's bullying thumb will brush against Dan Heng's tail slithering free of its magical prison. the dream tub is suddenly overflowing with the added bulk, and even then a solid length of his tail drapes over the opposite end of the tub and onto the floor. his tears are flowing just as freely in his sleep, are his slurred little noises and uncoordinated writhing.
Dan Heng in the dream is a mess. he wants to flee these feelings, but he can't. they're starting to feel more real than the dream around him, and he'd be trying to work out a way out of this, but he can't think.
the most he can come up with is to reach down with the hand not trying to muffle himself and paw at his own cocks, try to find some kind of relief from all this.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
And then: the blunt head of Blade's cock, fucking into his ass, sheathed to the hilt immediately. With Dan Heng asleep there's no resistance at all. He's little more than a warm and wet cocksleeve, as he should be, and Blade grinds his hips upwards at the exact angle that made Dan Feng mewl.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
in the dream, dan heng wets his fingers with the slick dripping from his own cocks and vent, and reaches back to stuff two fingers into his ass, too quick and rough, like at least making the feelings inflicting themselves on him make some sort of sense will help. the kissing, licking up his tears, the warm, secure feeling of a solid hand cradling his jaw... he can't make sense of it, especially not with everything else. this... surely isn't an effect of the dream.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
[He thrusts in, languid, savoring the heat. Both of his hands come up, now, one to brush the sweat-sticky bangs out of Dan Heng's face, the other to pet his cheek, reverent.
And then: strong, calloused fingers on his horns. Slick and warm and practiced all at once, like they're used to playing with the translucent keratin, nails dragging into the join of horn and scalp. Blade sinking in deep as he folds Dan Heng in half, as he takes the tip of a horn into his lips and sucks.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
The Dan Heng in the dream dumpster is, on the other hand, having a panic attack. Those are his horns he's feeling. Whoever is touching him in the waking world-- for that's the only option at this point-- is sucking on his horns, has drawn them out in the first place. That's terrifying. But the terror isn't enough to keep him from fucking himself on his fingers, trying to find some kind of release so he can do something about this.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
Perhaps then, he can feel, how the touch disappears, replaced by a tight, firm grip, on both horns, like reins as he's fucked in the ass in earnest, brutal, merciless, powerful thrusts.
Perhaps he can feel as one of those hands start to pull too hard, too far - as it starts to bend the horn beyond what it can take, cracks splintering through the material. As it pushes through, snapping it off at the base.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
his consciousness snaps into his body as finally, finally, the dream's overrides in case of emergency kick in. he's screaming, whole body siezing tight under and around blade and his cock.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
[That's what greets Dan Heng when he wakes into his own personal nightmare. Blade fucks that broken horn into his scream, straight into the back of his throat.]
Shut up, or I'll break the other one.
Re: SOMNO TIME
Re: SOMNO TIME
Does it hurt, husband?
[He'd played like this, before, with Dan Feng. It was Dan Feng's idea, too, and he had been the one to convince Yingxing to go through with it. It took a year for it to grow back, but that was with Dan Feng knowing exactly what to to do help it along.
He pulls the broken thing out of Dan Heng's mouth. Spit glistens in a thin thread between the sacred material and Dan Heng's screams.]
Whore. You tightened up so deliciously.
Re: SOMNO TIME
Re: SOMNO TIME
[He pulls out, just enough to keep the head of his cock sheathed in his ass - and he teases the already-stretched rim with the blunt tip of the horn he'd just broken. He's pulled Dan Heng forward by his intact horn, forcing him to curl over to look at how he pushes his own broken horn in, up until it catches on one of the branches, hooking against his hole.]
Re: SOMNO TIME
Re: SOMNO TIME
[He pushes it just that little bit further - not enough to injure, but enough to feel like on the precipice of it.]
Beg.
Re: SOMNO TIME
Stop.
[not exactly begging, though...]
Re: SOMNO TIME
Re: SOMNO TIME
Stop, stop--