Categories > Anime/Manga > Bleach > Breaking the Rules
Breaking the Rules
Written for the Bleach kink meme (http://kore-haiga.livejournal.com/33277.html). Request was Renji/Byakua, whipping. Not the best thing I've ever written, but not the worst either. The point is....
?Blocked
Breaking the Rules
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Abarai Renji knotted the gag behind his captain's neck and stepped back, left hand closing around the woven grip of his favorite toy. He took a moment to admire the view -- he loved the contrast of the dark fabric twining about surprisingly delicate wrists and pale forearms that were stretched high over his captain's head, waterfall of midnight silk tumbling over broad shoulders and the long inviting line of a proud aristocratic spine, which curved into a taught ass and lean, muscled thighs already spread slightly, bracing for what was to come. Kuchiki Byakuya had never looked more beautiful.
Renji tightened his grip around the handle as he moved into position, bracing his own stance and shivering slightly as the cool leather of the whip caressed his thigh and calf, the hiss of it's sinuous movement over the desk and floor unnaturally loud in the otherwise silent room. "There are consequences for breaking the rules, Taicho." His voice was low and rough and they had barely even begun, but he felt the words were important. His insight was rewarded with a soft play of light over rippling muscles at his captain tensed.
A slight flick of his wrist sent the tail of the whip to curl around Kuchiki-taicho's ankles in a parody of reassurance. "Are you prepared to pay the price?" He forced himself to wait for the response, his own tension - anticipation/excitement/desire - bleeding into the leather that slithered over the wood floor like a thing alive.
"Yes." The word was muffled around the gag, but Renji understood - his arm lifting before the word was complete, and if it ended in a hiss it was drowned by the crack of leather on flesh. And so it began. Sporadically at first - varying the length of time between strikes, varying the bite behind the blows, crisscrossing shoulders, back, buttocks and thighs with beautiful angry welts.
Whip wielding came naturally to Renji, he'd had enough practice with Zabimaru. Too many put too much effort into swinging a whip over their shoulder, an unnecessary waste of energy. Renji knew it was all in the subtle combination of shoulder, elbow and wrist. How the slightest change in angle in any of the three could alter the leather's trajectory, the point and intensity of impact rewarded in shuddering gasps. How the slightest shift in stance could lengthen the range, sending the coil around a trembling hip, across a heaving rib cage to bite into an unprotected, unmarked chest - this time earning a groan as the elegant back bowed and legs quivered with the effort to remain upright. A very deliberate series of lightning quick successive strikes and powerful muscles soon lost the battle.
A long low groan escaped the silk gag and Renji simply panted for a moment as his captain fell to his knees, arms pulled taught above his head, shoulders straining against gravity. He let the leather grip slip from his nearly numbed grasp and stepped forward, slicing through the bonds with a ready knife. Kuchiki-taicho slouched, shoulders rounded uncharacteristically as he struggled for breath through the fabric in his mouth.
Renji's knee in the small of this captain's back sent the dark-haired man sprawling forward, barely catching himself on his elbows, forehead impacting bound wrists instead of the wooden floor. Without preamble, tattooed hands abandoned the knife for lube, two fingers seeking and penetrating the entrance displayed before him. There was nothing gentle or careful in his prep, though he did make a nominal effort to stretch the tight ring of muscle a bit while he spread the lube. His captain's flesh was heated, each welt a line of fire where it brushed his own and Renji's cock throbbed in anticipation. He abandoned his captain's ass in favor of slicking his own erection, head falling back as the tension curled tight in his gut and he knew he wouldn't last long.
Renji didn't bother warning his captain to brace himself, simply positioned the head of his cock where he wanted it, tightened his grip on a trembling hip and slammed home till his balls pressed tight against heated flesh. A groan of intense pleasure clawed its way up his throat and he took a moment to revel in the tight, slick, quivering of the body beneath him. Then he pulled out till only the tip remained and snapped his hips forward again, the movement rewarded by what sounded suspiciously like a whimper. Curious, he did it again, running a proprietary hand over the welts he'd created, pleased when Kuchiki-taicho moaned low in his throat the sound vibrating through the heaving chest and straight to Renji's cock.
And it was suddenly too much. Too hot, too tight, too submissive from a man who was never subservient to anyone and Renji felt something uncoil inside of him. His hips moved of their own accord - hard and fast - hands roving restlessly - kneading, claiming. All too soon the familiar fire coiled down his spine, coalesced in his balls and washed his vision in white as his fingers clamped around the hips in his grasp, pulling back as his own hips shoved forward in an unconscious primal need to get deeper.
Reality crept back slowly as he gulped air into his burning lungs, fingers softening their grip on the trembling body beneath him. Another few moments and he pulled back, slowly softening cock slipping from his captain with a deliciously wet sound. Kuchiki-taicho shuddered almost violently, but a quick visual showed only the barest hint of pink in the line of cum slipping down an inner thigh.
Gently, carefully, Renji helped his captain onto his back, stretching those still bound wrists over his head for the shear visual impact the image presented. Calloused fingers brushed sweat-drenched ebony away from a flushed face, though he bypassed the gag in favor of mapping the heaving chest, thumb and forefingers pausing to tweak and tease darkened nipples. Kuchiki-taicho arched beneath him, a groan of raw need vibrating through his chest. Renji dipped his head, tongue flicking out to trace the single angry red welt across his captain's chest and down the taught abdomen. He paused to nuzzle the sparse trail of dark hairs till his chin bumped into the bound and straining erection weeping for attention. For relief.
He swiped the flat of his tongue over the head, humming in appreciation at the salty tang, before worming the tip into the slit only to pull back when hips bucked beneath him. "Does that mean you're ready to come?" He asked, hands moving to pin those hips back to the floor where they belonged. Violet eyes glared down at him and Renji smirked slightly at the sheer heat in the normally cool and impassive gaze.
"As you command, Taicho," he couldn't resist teasing. An unintelligible, yet clearly impatient noise announced the man's displeasure and Reji's fingers moved of their own accord to loosen the bindings around the straining cock before him. Deftly freeing his captain's length, Renji used his thumb and palm to soothe over the indents the wrappings had made.
His first firm stroke up the throbbing shaft earned him a long low moan and he knew Kuchiki-taicho was riding the edge. Settling himself between the quivering thighs, Renji dipped his head and slowly swallowed his captain, pulling back up only when the head brushed the back of his throat and forced his retreat. He set a smooth rhythm of gentle suckling, tongue pressed tight to the underside, as he knew his captain liked.
Fingers filtered through his hair, guiding and adjusting his rhythm and angle, hips twitching upward to meet each downward stroke. Renji slipped his fingers down to massage and roll the heavy sack beneath his chin, then further down to the slick entrance still leaking his own passion. Two fingers slipped inside searching for that spongy protrusion and the fingers tightened almost painfully in his hair. Renji breathed through his nose and opened his throat as his captain's hips became more insistent, bound hands holding him in place as the head of his captain's cock slid past the back of his throat again, and again. His own heart was back to racing as he found and massaged his captain's prostate, a groan escaping his throat at the sheer eroticism of the moment.
And then he was swallowing around the splash of hot liquid and focusing on Kuchiki-taicho's groan of completion and the muscles spasming around his fingers in an attempt not to gag. Renji managed it, barely, pulling back only when the fingers loosened their grip on his hair to gaze up at his captain, eyes closed and head tilted back, breathing deep and evenly as the aristocrat regained control of himself.
It was really a shame that Captain Kuchiki Byakuya so very rarely broke the rules. Even the trivial ones like not using his vice-captain's coffee mug.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Iri - fin 19 May 2007
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Abarai Renji knotted the gag behind his captain's neck and stepped back, left hand closing around the woven grip of his favorite toy. He took a moment to admire the view -- he loved the contrast of the dark fabric twining about surprisingly delicate wrists and pale forearms that were stretched high over his captain's head, waterfall of midnight silk tumbling over broad shoulders and the long inviting line of a proud aristocratic spine, which curved into a taught ass and lean, muscled thighs already spread slightly, bracing for what was to come. Kuchiki Byakuya had never looked more beautiful.
Renji tightened his grip around the handle as he moved into position, bracing his own stance and shivering slightly as the cool leather of the whip caressed his thigh and calf, the hiss of it's sinuous movement over the desk and floor unnaturally loud in the otherwise silent room. "There are consequences for breaking the rules, Taicho." His voice was low and rough and they had barely even begun, but he felt the words were important. His insight was rewarded with a soft play of light over rippling muscles at his captain tensed.
A slight flick of his wrist sent the tail of the whip to curl around Kuchiki-taicho's ankles in a parody of reassurance. "Are you prepared to pay the price?" He forced himself to wait for the response, his own tension - anticipation/excitement/desire - bleeding into the leather that slithered over the wood floor like a thing alive.
"Yes." The word was muffled around the gag, but Renji understood - his arm lifting before the word was complete, and if it ended in a hiss it was drowned by the crack of leather on flesh. And so it began. Sporadically at first - varying the length of time between strikes, varying the bite behind the blows, crisscrossing shoulders, back, buttocks and thighs with beautiful angry welts.
Whip wielding came naturally to Renji, he'd had enough practice with Zabimaru. Too many put too much effort into swinging a whip over their shoulder, an unnecessary waste of energy. Renji knew it was all in the subtle combination of shoulder, elbow and wrist. How the slightest change in angle in any of the three could alter the leather's trajectory, the point and intensity of impact rewarded in shuddering gasps. How the slightest shift in stance could lengthen the range, sending the coil around a trembling hip, across a heaving rib cage to bite into an unprotected, unmarked chest - this time earning a groan as the elegant back bowed and legs quivered with the effort to remain upright. A very deliberate series of lightning quick successive strikes and powerful muscles soon lost the battle.
A long low groan escaped the silk gag and Renji simply panted for a moment as his captain fell to his knees, arms pulled taught above his head, shoulders straining against gravity. He let the leather grip slip from his nearly numbed grasp and stepped forward, slicing through the bonds with a ready knife. Kuchiki-taicho slouched, shoulders rounded uncharacteristically as he struggled for breath through the fabric in his mouth.
Renji's knee in the small of this captain's back sent the dark-haired man sprawling forward, barely catching himself on his elbows, forehead impacting bound wrists instead of the wooden floor. Without preamble, tattooed hands abandoned the knife for lube, two fingers seeking and penetrating the entrance displayed before him. There was nothing gentle or careful in his prep, though he did make a nominal effort to stretch the tight ring of muscle a bit while he spread the lube. His captain's flesh was heated, each welt a line of fire where it brushed his own and Renji's cock throbbed in anticipation. He abandoned his captain's ass in favor of slicking his own erection, head falling back as the tension curled tight in his gut and he knew he wouldn't last long.
Renji didn't bother warning his captain to brace himself, simply positioned the head of his cock where he wanted it, tightened his grip on a trembling hip and slammed home till his balls pressed tight against heated flesh. A groan of intense pleasure clawed its way up his throat and he took a moment to revel in the tight, slick, quivering of the body beneath him. Then he pulled out till only the tip remained and snapped his hips forward again, the movement rewarded by what sounded suspiciously like a whimper. Curious, he did it again, running a proprietary hand over the welts he'd created, pleased when Kuchiki-taicho moaned low in his throat the sound vibrating through the heaving chest and straight to Renji's cock.
And it was suddenly too much. Too hot, too tight, too submissive from a man who was never subservient to anyone and Renji felt something uncoil inside of him. His hips moved of their own accord - hard and fast - hands roving restlessly - kneading, claiming. All too soon the familiar fire coiled down his spine, coalesced in his balls and washed his vision in white as his fingers clamped around the hips in his grasp, pulling back as his own hips shoved forward in an unconscious primal need to get deeper.
Reality crept back slowly as he gulped air into his burning lungs, fingers softening their grip on the trembling body beneath him. Another few moments and he pulled back, slowly softening cock slipping from his captain with a deliciously wet sound. Kuchiki-taicho shuddered almost violently, but a quick visual showed only the barest hint of pink in the line of cum slipping down an inner thigh.
Gently, carefully, Renji helped his captain onto his back, stretching those still bound wrists over his head for the shear visual impact the image presented. Calloused fingers brushed sweat-drenched ebony away from a flushed face, though he bypassed the gag in favor of mapping the heaving chest, thumb and forefingers pausing to tweak and tease darkened nipples. Kuchiki-taicho arched beneath him, a groan of raw need vibrating through his chest. Renji dipped his head, tongue flicking out to trace the single angry red welt across his captain's chest and down the taught abdomen. He paused to nuzzle the sparse trail of dark hairs till his chin bumped into the bound and straining erection weeping for attention. For relief.
He swiped the flat of his tongue over the head, humming in appreciation at the salty tang, before worming the tip into the slit only to pull back when hips bucked beneath him. "Does that mean you're ready to come?" He asked, hands moving to pin those hips back to the floor where they belonged. Violet eyes glared down at him and Renji smirked slightly at the sheer heat in the normally cool and impassive gaze.
"As you command, Taicho," he couldn't resist teasing. An unintelligible, yet clearly impatient noise announced the man's displeasure and Reji's fingers moved of their own accord to loosen the bindings around the straining cock before him. Deftly freeing his captain's length, Renji used his thumb and palm to soothe over the indents the wrappings had made.
His first firm stroke up the throbbing shaft earned him a long low moan and he knew Kuchiki-taicho was riding the edge. Settling himself between the quivering thighs, Renji dipped his head and slowly swallowed his captain, pulling back up only when the head brushed the back of his throat and forced his retreat. He set a smooth rhythm of gentle suckling, tongue pressed tight to the underside, as he knew his captain liked.
Fingers filtered through his hair, guiding and adjusting his rhythm and angle, hips twitching upward to meet each downward stroke. Renji slipped his fingers down to massage and roll the heavy sack beneath his chin, then further down to the slick entrance still leaking his own passion. Two fingers slipped inside searching for that spongy protrusion and the fingers tightened almost painfully in his hair. Renji breathed through his nose and opened his throat as his captain's hips became more insistent, bound hands holding him in place as the head of his captain's cock slid past the back of his throat again, and again. His own heart was back to racing as he found and massaged his captain's prostate, a groan escaping his throat at the sheer eroticism of the moment.
And then he was swallowing around the splash of hot liquid and focusing on Kuchiki-taicho's groan of completion and the muscles spasming around his fingers in an attempt not to gag. Renji managed it, barely, pulling back only when the fingers loosened their grip on his hair to gaze up at his captain, eyes closed and head tilted back, breathing deep and evenly as the aristocrat regained control of himself.
It was really a shame that Captain Kuchiki Byakuya so very rarely broke the rules. Even the trivial ones like not using his vice-captain's coffee mug.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Iri - fin 19 May 2007
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