Obey the Prince

Obey the Prince

Warnings/Notes: S&M, shameless random smut.

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A beastly grin of satisfaction crossed Turles' face as Vegeta squirmed under him, his body writhing from side to side as he tested the bonds that secured his arms and legs. It was a rare chance indeed to have him laid out like this, and he was most certainly going to savour it.

Such strange commands he was sometimes given.

Hushing the form under him, he ran his palms over Vegeta's chest, pausing to play with his nipples. He didn't stop until he got a soft whine, caused by one sadistic twist. Only encouraged by the sound, he leant down to bite the skin around one nipple, canines just breaking the skin.

This actually drew out a soft yell, Vegeta's body spasming underneath him. Each sound Vegeta made just allowed him to understand better. He'd been reluctant to hurt him at first, fearing punishment rather than having any aversion to hurting his superior in such a manner. But now he was growing accustomed to it, he could allow himself to enjoy the knowledge he was hurting Vegeta. He would appreciate the dishevelled, bloody mess he'd be after their game. Something about ruining the neat and composed prince, even temporarily, got to him, and he craved that end result. He'd have Vegeta reeking of sweat, sex and even his own blood. He'd be panting for air. Every little thing Turles did to him would have him twisting and pleading.

Reaching up to the side of Vegeta's neck, Turles slipped a pair of fingers under his ear. Watching Vegeta's features carefully for an response, he started to knead the pressure point, the firm rubbing causing a gradual build up of pain. Tutting as Vegeta tried to arch away, he just pressed harder, making him hiss in pain. Even when he stopped, the ghost of the feeling still remained, continuously eating away at his resistance.

Noting the distraction, Turles jabbed Vegeta in the stomach, admiring how muscles all over the tormented body tensed up in an instant.

Only Vegeta's eyes were telling him otherwise. Whilst the body under him was responding with aftershock twitches, the eyes just stared back at him, unsatisfied by his efforts. He scowled at the expression, pulling some thin wire from his pocket. Folding a piece over, he slipped the ends between them and lowered loops onto each nipple, tightening them with a sadistic chuckle.

“If you think that is enough, you're got another thing coming, weakling.” Narrow eyes continued to taunt him.

Picking up a blindfold, Turles shook his head and gave Vegeta a toothy smirk. “I'm just...warming up.” Leaning over the spread body, he tied the black material around Vegeta's head before getting off him. Without the accusing eyes, he could concentrate.

Turning away from the body on the bed, he picked up a small canister, unscrewing the top and picking out an ice cube, popping it in his mouth. The coldness almost hurt his tongue as the ice melted.

Moving back over Vegeta he let the rest of the ice cube melt in his mouth, swallowing the water. He grazed his thumbs over his bound nipples. Not getting a reaction, Turles scowled, and with a sadistic smirk, kissed one, pushing his icy tongue against it.

A low hiss slipped past Vegeta's lips at the coldness. He hadn't expected Turles to be as resourceful as this. The coldness was as viscous as any bite he could have been given.

Giving the wires a gentle tug to tease, Turles reached down to rub the bulge in his suit, eyeing Vegeta with a calculative gaze. It was always hard to judge his boundaries.

He grabbed Vegeta's upper arms, digging his nails into his skin and using the grip to haul himself up Vegeta's body into a sitting position on his chest. Droplets of blood leaked from the cuts when he released him, slipping his fingers into Vegeta's hair with deceptive gentleness. Only when he felt the body under him relax did he yank Vegeta's head up, sneering as he pressed his cock to his lips.

Sometimes it was worth pushing the boundaries. He was fast passing the point of caring about what would happen to him once Vegeta was finished with their game or if he were to have a change of heart.

When he got no response to his bold action, Turles reached for the base of Vegeta's jaw and pressed down to force his mouth open, taking advantage of pressure points. He was a little surprised not to encounter any kind of struggle. It seemed Vegeta wanted to be forced.

Fine by him. Nothing was stopping the prince from throwing him off the bed, so he could do what he wanted.

He let out a low growl of pleasure as he forced himself into Vegeta's mouth, grabbing his hair again and tugging his head into a more accessible position, pulling especially hard to cause more pain. Only after this did Vegeta start to act, rubbing his tongue against his cock.

Sweat started to bead on Turles' brow as he rocked his hips forwards. He let his tail whip over Vegeta's abdomen, the strikes only driving him on. The more pain Turles gave him, the more enthusiastic he became. His scalp throbbed from all the hair pulling. There were most likely red marks rising up all over his abdomen. And that was exactly what he wanted.

He could allow himself to feel all this.

When Turles was finished, he was quick to turn around, biting his hip and inner thigh several times, each drawing blood. The more time he spent with Vegeta, the more he understood; he'd just been demonstrated the reward he'd receive for doing what he was told.

“That's enough.” With a flex of his wrists, Vegeta broke the ropes holding him in place. He looked at Turles' disappointed face with a knowing gaze, a small smirk on his own. “No need to be upset. I'm sure I'll be requesting your services again now you are starting to understand.”

The silky smooth voice made Turles' skin crawl. He bowed his head, nodding in silence.

Shaking the ropes off his wrists and ankles, Vegeta moved to sit on the edge of the bed, running his fingers over the red marks on his abdomen. They still stung, and he was sure they'd leave some interesting bruises.

“I trust you still know what to do, Turles.”

Nodding again, Turles started to straighten up his uniform. He knew exactly what to do.

He wouldn't say a thing.