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143 » i never told another how i felt inside
[Anyway, there's an art to it, this whole financial domination thing. It isn't difficult, after all, to get some beautiful man or woman to spend one's money willy-nilly — but doing it in a way that satisfies one's basest urges is an art that few can aspire to.
So maybe it's fair to say that Childe is hooked on the services that Aether provides; no one else does it quite like him, after all. He's always beautiful, unruffled, and perfectly in control; most importantly, he seems to completely understand that dirty little kink Childe has for providing for others, being used for his body and his wealth. At the same time, he never goes overboard: he stays well within Childe's limits and never skimps on the aftercare, even after he's fucked the man out of his mind and left him quivering between his bedsheets.
At the moment, they're in the relative privacy of Childe's swanky penthouse apartment, and Aether is calmly using the man's computer to shop for gifts for his precious client. Calmly, the dominatrix — or is it dominator? — swings one leg where it's coquettishly crossed atop the other, clicking "add to cart" on things with relatively reckless abandon (though he does have an eye and an appetite for quality, mind you).]
...So I was thinking I want to get you a red collar, too. The pink one is cute, but red will look better when I take you for walks outside.
[One of his fingers comes down, traces the heavy, comfortable leather collar currently clasped around Childe's neck. He doesn't have to reach far. After all, Childe is on his hands and knees beneath him, fully naked as he enjoys the pleasure of being dehumanized and objectified as Aether's warm, living chair. Smiling, Aether looks down at him, then traces a long, teasing path from the nape of his collared neck to the middle of his shoulder blades.]
Next... I think we could get you a few new toys.
[With slow, practiced grace, he rolls his thumb against the remote in his hand, intensifying the speed of the vibration that's been buzzing away between Childe's legs for some time now.]
How do you like the one inside you right now?
So maybe it's fair to say that Childe is hooked on the services that Aether provides; no one else does it quite like him, after all. He's always beautiful, unruffled, and perfectly in control; most importantly, he seems to completely understand that dirty little kink Childe has for providing for others, being used for his body and his wealth. At the same time, he never goes overboard: he stays well within Childe's limits and never skimps on the aftercare, even after he's fucked the man out of his mind and left him quivering between his bedsheets.
At the moment, they're in the relative privacy of Childe's swanky penthouse apartment, and Aether is calmly using the man's computer to shop for gifts for his precious client. Calmly, the dominatrix — or is it dominator? — swings one leg where it's coquettishly crossed atop the other, clicking "add to cart" on things with relatively reckless abandon (though he does have an eye and an appetite for quality, mind you).]
...So I was thinking I want to get you a red collar, too. The pink one is cute, but red will look better when I take you for walks outside.
[One of his fingers comes down, traces the heavy, comfortable leather collar currently clasped around Childe's neck. He doesn't have to reach far. After all, Childe is on his hands and knees beneath him, fully naked as he enjoys the pleasure of being dehumanized and objectified as Aether's warm, living chair. Smiling, Aether looks down at him, then traces a long, teasing path from the nape of his collared neck to the middle of his shoulder blades.]
Next... I think we could get you a few new toys.
[With slow, practiced grace, he rolls his thumb against the remote in his hand, intensifying the speed of the vibration that's been buzzing away between Childe's legs for some time now.]
How do you like the one inside you right now?