myselfwillbear | bad decisions, iv edition // for numbers96

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bad decisions, iv edition // for numbers96

[ IV doesn't know a huge amount about what his crest can do. It's not as though Tron has really told him much - he knows it stops the Numbers controlling his mind, but beyond that? He wasn't told anything.

He's worked out though, on his own, that he can manifest the Numbers outside of the AR, using the crest. It's not perfect, true - Giant Killer is as small as one of his dolls, Heaven's Strings won't leave its sealed form - but they'll appear nonetheless. He's never gotten to experiment with Machu Mach or Dyson Sphere, though, much as he'd wanted to, and none of the other Numbers he's collected have ever been that interesting.

So, truth be told, he doesn't exactly have high hopes for this latest card, 96.

But he'll manifest it anyway, if only the one time, to see.

Which is why he's currently stood over Black Mist's card, crest blazing on his hand as he works on drawing it out into reality. ]

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[ IV groans into it when Chris speaks, wrapping his arms around Chris's neck and trying to pull him in deeper.

(and then he's pulling away)

(not giving in, like IV said)

He makes a quiet, distressed noise, squirming about a little and glancing down at the pool that holds him. ]

Ah, will you...?

[ Will you show Chris what he's missing, Black Mist?

(he just wants

them both

together in this) ]

[He wonders what IV is talking to.

Then he realizes, and he only has time to open his mouth to speak before tendrils lash around his arms and legs and he's pulled into the air in front of IV, choking on whatever words he planned to say.]

[It pulls itself from the slime behind IV, rests its hands on his shoulders, cheek close to his.]

Ah, Christopher Arkwright, you should ｌｉｓｔｅｎ to him. It's such a long time since you've been happy, isn't it?

Such a long time since you felt ｇｏｏｄ?

[More tendrils rise from the pool below him, to writhe over his skin, strip away what little of his clothing is left and leave him gasping.

It croons into IV's ear, pleased, fawning, strokes his other cheek with one hand.

(and when he pleases Black Mist it will be so kind to him, it will give him such beautiful things)]

What should he have first, pet? What will we give him?

[ He watches Chris intently, watches the way he's gasping.

(that's good, it's good, he should enjoy this as much as IV does)

Leans into Black Mist, and if he weren't so focused on watching Chris then his eyes would shut, blissful. As is, he only makes a low noise of content, of pleasure, gaze trailing up and down Chris's body and the expanse of pale skin that's been exposed now. ]

Ah... ah, make him drink but nothing else.

[ He wants to see Chris desperate, wants to see him wanting more but not getting it until he's pleased Black Mist enough for it to give in.

He tilts his head a little, so as to better see its face.

(was that a good enough suggestion? he wants it to be pleased with him) ]

[He's thankful, so thankful for the crest, because he can feel the way those words buzz at the edge of his mind, the way the harmonies try to break through him,

ｌｉｓｔｅｎ

ｇｏｏｄ

He manages to push them out but then he's too distracted to attack, because it's touching IV that way (like an animal, like a doll) and calling him its pet and asking him what to give V.

(what does that mean)

(he knows what it means)

But he can't imagine IV will actually give it an answer until it actually comes out, and for a second his eyes go wide.

(why is he cooperating with it? he)

(this isn't right and)]

IV--

[The tendril slides into Chris' mouth and cuts off his speech, leaves a moment for a panicked noise before it starts to drip.

It can feel it, that V is afraid. It can feel that he is afraid but it can also feel that he is hungry, that he needs, it's written in the heat of his skin and the quickening of his pulse beneath the surface.

Yes, it is very pleased with IV. It is pleased with its new pet, with the fear, with the way he struggles in its grip (but deep down doesn't mean it). It squirms a little around IV's body in excitement, keeps on stroking his face and crooning.]

Hush, Christopher Arkwright. Your brother only wants the best for you.

Isn't it so, pet?

[ The squirming makes IV shudder in its grip, makes him rock his hips up and lean into the stroking.

(it's pleased with him, with what he's brought to it, and right now? right now, in its grip, that's all that matters)

(Black Mist being pleased with him, and... Chris's enjoyment of this, Chris understanding so that it can have another pet and IV can share this feeling) ]

Yes, yes... give in, Chris, just give in. It's good.

[ He turns his gaze back to Black Mist, squirming against it. ]

Will you lift me up? I want him to see. So he'll understand.

[ See Thomas swollen with oil and wanting it so clearly, see how much Thomas enjoys it so that he can understand how much he'll enjoy it if he just gives in. ]

[IV being so eager to please, to help V understand, that's good. IV wanting to share, that's better. It has never had a pet quite like this.

(he thinks so simply in his core, too, he's so easy to take from, it's like taking a scalpel to his heart)

When IV asks, the pool rises beneath him, pushes him into the air and waits as tendrils loop under his arms and around his body, to cradle him.

The slime melts back into the pool, but it leaves tendrils behind -- two wrapping around IV's legs, supporting him, spreading them open, one curling around his cock, one still pumping slowly, slowly into his ass.]

Perhaps we'll make a wager, Christopher Arkwright. If you are so eager to leave.

[It pulls the tendril from his mouth, for now, so he can speak, looping it lazily around his neck.]

[He sees IV, hanging there, swollen up in a way that can't be natural, can't be right, with...with that thing writhing around his cock, and...

(his whole body burns, it's sore and tender and it aches for touch, for)

~~(for thomas' hands, for his mouth)~~

Deep breaths, in through the nose, don't swallow the stuff in your mouth (except the tendril has fattened between his lips so nothing can get out and so he has to swallow, swallow down this sick oily thing that's already softening his mind with arousal).

When it pulls the tendril out of his mouth, it's clear he's struggling to keep some kind of composure.]

N...nnh. Name your terms.

[He's flushed, though, sweating a little already.]

[ IV is entirely without composure, from the moment he's put on show. Head lolling back, groaning low in his throat while his hips move lazily into the touch of the tendril around his cock; slow, steady thrusting into the warm embrace of that tendril.

He wants his mouth unoccupied, wants to be able to keep talking, but-- but at the same time, he's watched Chris drink in the oil (reluctantly, maybe, but hadn't IV been reluctant too before he realised how wonderful Black Mist is, how much it can offer?) and he wants it. So he twists his head about, looking to see if there are any tendrils close enough for him to suck at them but pull back if he needs to talk again, and when he finds one he shifts to wrap his lips around the tip, groaning again.

(quieter, though)

(he wants to keep up the constant reminder to Chris of how good this is, and besides that he doesn't think he could hold back the noise at all at this point, but Black Mist is trying to speak and IV won't interrupt it)

From there, IV just shifts his eyes to watch Chris, to take in the way he's flushed and sweating and struggling already.

(it's good, that he's starting to give in even if it's only physically)

(and it makes him look so wonderful) ]

[It likes it very much, when IV turns his head to take one of the tendrils around him (one of many, now) into his mouth. As soon as his lips fasten around it, the oil drips more quickly from the surface.

(he has already drunk today and yet he is so greedy, so hungry for it)

(it has never had a pet break to it this quickly)

(it's beginning to drip again already)

Some of the tendrils around IV descend to curl over him, slide over his bare skin, and occasionally there's some suction that leaves little red marks on his body.

It takes a moment, before it speaks again, reclining in the air beside them, surveying its prizes, licking its lips with its pale blue tongue.]

If you are still unsure by the time my pet comes, you are free to go.

But you must watch him until then.

And if you ask something of me even once, Christopher Arkwright, you are ｍｉｎｅ.

[It wouldn't be hard for him to keep watching IV, at least. His eyes are fixed on him completely: they don't even turn away to Black Mist once.

(he wants to think it's from horror, but even he can't convince himself of that)

(he's watching because it's IV, because it's Thomas and he's naked and oiled and moaning out the pleasure he's getting from this thing)

(because he wants--)

This should be simple, shouldn't it? It should be fine. He doesn't need to do anything, doesn't even need to resist it, and once IV comes he can go free.

(never mind that he can barely even take thinking about it, what it's going to look like when IV comes)

He just needs to not ask for anything. He just needs not to beg. And he wouldn't beg to anyone, most especially this thing, because that's something that Christopher Arkwright doesn't do, that V would never do. He has that dignity, even when he's like this.

(even when his skin aches like this, even when he's so hard in front of 96, in front of his brother)

So he takes a shaky breath and says, quietly,]

Agreed.

[His crest appears, but does not light. It's too early for that.]

[ Even IV, as close to mindless as the oil makes him, knows the meaning of Black Mist's words. Even he can see the truth behind those terms.

(but... he can wait, can't he?)

(he can wait as long as it takes to come, no matter how much he needs it, because the end result of waiting until Chris gives in...)

He twists in its grip now, and once the both of them have stopped talking he gives in totally, stops holding back his noises at all. Jerks his hips and gasps and moans around the tendril in his mouth, sucks greedily at everything it's giving him.

For all that he can wait, he doesn't want to, he's hard enough to hurt and heavy with oil and he needs to hit that precipice.

So he shifts, stretches himself out like every part of him is yearning for Chris's touch (it is, it is) and hopes, hopes with every desperate noise that Chris will lose himself, will ask for something even so simple as to be moved close enough to touch IV like IV so clearly wants (needs). ]

[It knows that Chris will give in, eventually. It knows that the oil and the time and the sight of its pet will do that to him.

But it doesn't just want him to break, it wants the break to be beautiful. It wants him to lose himself before it's even touching him.

(it doesn't just want him to ask

it wants him to beg)

So it drifts up close to Thomas again, but lower this time, holds his hips still and lays its head on his swollen stomach and watches his face.

(and it traces one finger around the tendril inside him)

(it hasn't swollen up yet and Black Mist is intrigued, it has an image it wants to explore, wants to see laid out for it)]

I wonder, pet...

Could you take another?

[ He squirms when it keeps his hips still, but then Black Mist is resting its head on his stomach and he just groans around the tendril in his mouth, sucking at it even more desperately.

(he wants more, wants everything it can give and)

(it's offering more)

(offering to give him another, and IV groans again just imagining it, imagining it stretching him open with two tendrils at once)

It takes a few long moments before he's willing to let go of the tendril in his mouth, still sucking at it, and even when he pulls his head back to speak he's still kissing at it, licking at the oil leaking from it between words. ]

Please. Aah, ah, I can. I-- I want another. Please, now, ah...

[Another.

It's...it's going to put another in him, and he's

he's begging for it.

(he's begging for it, he's so desperate, he can barely keep his mouth off the tendril in front of him)

(his own body is starting to hurt with how badly he needs to be touched but he can take it, he can take it, he just has to wait)

(but his breath hitches as he watches, his body tenses)]

[Well. If this is what its pet desires, it will give generously~.

It slips up again so it can cradle IV's head in its hands, croon to him, calm him.

(calm him just enough)

(just enough that this will be easier, but of course he won't be calm once it's in, will he?)

Another tendril just as thick slides up alongside the first, dripping, and begins to push into him, slowly, steadily. And as it does Black Mist strokes IV's hair, croons to him softly.]

Such a good pet. Such a good boy.

[ The crooning has IV's whole body relaxing in Black Mist's grip, going limp and pliant rather than the tense need of before.

(it's not that he wasn't calm in the sense of being afraid)

(but in the face of this kind of pleasure, it's hard to relax on his own steam)

He relaxes into the press of the second tendril though, sliding his eyes shut and only reacting with soft moans and gasps while it's stroking his hair and crooning to him that way.

('good pet', 'good boy')

(he's doing well, it's pleased with him)

(good. that's good, he wants to please it)

IV moans again, still quiet. He doesn't want to obscure a word that it's saying, doesn't want to miss a bit of it while Black Mist is praising him, so he sucks the tendril back into his mouth to muffle the noises coming from him as they get more and more desperate. ]

[It watches him, watches its lovely pet stretched out so wide by its tendrils, and it hums and croons its approval into him to fill up his mind just like it does his body.

Speaking of which. The way the tendrils are stretching him, there's oil leaking out, so it needs to pump it in fast, from both of them.

And, well, if the oil's already dripping out, then there's no harm if it does a little more, is there?

It keeps singing to him, soothing him, as the tendril keeps pushing into him, as it pulls out and slides back in, as the other one begins slowly to do the same.

(it will fuck him slowly, so the need that's already painful will become unbearable, so he'll beg and plead for more even with two tendrils inside him, even as he feels he's going to break)

(V should be thankful, it thinks, that it is willing to share this delight with him)]

[ Every sound Black Mist makes has IV twitching in its grip, letting out little choked, desperate noises as he sucks at the tendril in his mouth. And that's before even the fast pumping oil from both tendrils, before it starts fucking him with them both.

If it weren't keeping him calm with its voice he'd be beyond desperate by now, he'd be arching and writhing and fighting past his exhaustion to jerk about as much as possible in the hopes of getting more, more. As is though, he's placid, almost docile; just hanging in its grip, hips rocking slowly (but faster now, gradually) into the thrusting tendrils and moaning softly, eyes glazed with lust.

(even despite that, though, he's starting to tremble more, to suck harder at the tendril in his mouth)

(Black Mist can calm him but this is too much, this is too good)

(and

Chris is watching)

(that thought is enough to have an abrupt jerk of his hips, IV's eyes squeezing shut) ]

[IV starts to moan and moves his hips even with the voice in his ears and Black Mist is so very pleased with that.

It sees V, too, out of the corner of its eye, sees him panting and shaking and squirming in his bonds, trying desperately to soothe his aching body, eyes still locked on his brother. And that pleases it too, certainly. But it's not enough. He has to give in, he has to break.

So, slowly, the crooning becomes quieter, quieter, and Black Mist slowly draws itself away. It has to build this up slowly, put on a wonderful puppet show for their guest.

As it moves away, V's bonds tighten, draw his limbs away from each other so he doesn't have a hope of touching himself, any part of himself.

It waits, watches, to see its beloved pet as he comes apart.]

[ There's a little noise of desperation, when IV first registers that Black Mist is getting quieter. When the haze in his mind starts to clear, starts to leave only the burning need and nothing to calm it.

Before long, he's jerking in Black Mist's grip, skin slick with sweat and oil, every exhalation accompanied by a loud groan and each one only just barely muffled by the tendril in his mouth. It's not long after that, either, that he arches and lets the tendril slip free from his mouth entirely.

(he wants to drink, he wants everything it will give but)

(this isn't enough)

(he needs more and it's not being given to him and he knows, even in this state, that Black Mist won't give in and let him come until Chris has broken)

(so he throws his head back, bearing down on the tendrils that are fucking him, and calls out loud and needy) ]

Please, please, more. Ah, ah, I need more, please-- please I'll do anything I need it please, please!

[ His eyes snap open then, finding Chris and focusing on him. ]

V. Chris. A-ah, nii-san-- please. Please, nii-san...

[He's coming apart.

He was squirming before, trying to get some kind of stimulation, but now he hangs limp in his bonds and takes slow, shuddering breaths, trembling.

(his whole body is on fire, he's flushed everywhere and slick with oil and sweat, his hair hangs damp in his face)

(he can't give in)

(but)

(but Thomas is right there, and it's touching him and fucking him hard and it looks so)

(good)

(and)

IV...IV's asking for something, but he doesn't know what he's asking for, he hears the desperation in his voice but what can Chris do when he's bound here?

(he can't touch him, can't press his body against his or kiss him deep or ride his cock or)

He tries to clear the thoughts out of his mind but they keep coming back worse, better.]

I...IV, I...!

[He can't give in but he

he can't take this, he can't, his mind might be well-protected but his body

his body is going to come apart.]

[Good. Good.

(he just needs a push)

(just one more little push and then)

It moves a closer again, strokes his face as the tendrils begin to move in him faster.]

What should he do, IV?

[ The tendrils are moving faster and IV can't speak, not straight away. Can't do anything at all but writhe and jerk in Black Mist's grip, all but screaming on every exhalation.

(because it's too much, it's too much and not enough and he needs to come more than he needs to breathe right now, it's like he's burning and drowning all in the same motion, drowning in hot oil)

The noises start to get more coherent though, the longer Black Mist holds him and fucks him open at that speed. Words start to slip through the torrent of noise, please and nii-san and give in and more.

His eyes clamp shut and he arches up further with every thrust of Black Mist's tendrils, still begging on every breath.

(if Chris doesn't give in, he)

(he doesn't know what he'll do)

(he can't survive this kind of pleasure-pain-anticipation for much longer) ]

bad decisions, iv edition // for numbers96

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