close up shop

Lips parted as his breath came out unevenly, Toby just barely managed to take off his glasses and set them on a nearby surface, Cecil's form getting more obscured and menacing in the dark and blurred surroundings. Toby was glad he wasn't completely blind, if only to see the way he was being looked at while Cecil's fingers lingered on his cheek. Toby's features had always been naturally angelic, when not sabotaged by eyebags, purposefully bad posture, and the garbage he spewed when he spoke-- and he was more than fine with it if that made him all the more appealing for a demon to try to corrupt and break.

His breathing, unsurprisingly, grew even more short when a hand went around his neck. He went obediently still, eyes glued on Cecil. That was such a lovely smile for a man about to hurt him. He swallowed, and when he spoke, his lover would be able to feel the hum of his voice through his throat. "Maybe I'm just far too fond of you for my own good, Cecil." He shifted, face hot, arousal definitely evident.

He continued after undressed and vulnerable, pausing occasionally to squeak over touches. "Also, yes, I am really fucking horny, I want to have sex with you until I can't think, talk, see, breathe, or move… you don't run out of energy here, right? That's, jesus--" He ducked his head a bit, the concept dizzying. "Don't give me any breaks. That sensation sounds priceless. You want to too, right? Should get the full use and satisfaction from your product, and all." Did he have any, single drop of shame in his body, objectifying and sexualizing himself to the highest degree, making himself a feast for monsters? No. Besides, this was a very handsome monster, one who Toby would spread his legs for whenever asked, over and over again.

He'd gotten himself further riled up with his train of dirty, nasty, wanton thoughts and words. After holding on to Cecil's hand and sucking off his fingers pretty lewdly and eagerly, it was easy to make Toby jolt and tremble while being fingered. His gasp was as sharp as his fingernails in Cecil's back when fangs sank into delicate skin, eyes rolling back and fluttering involuntarily. He needed a moment in order to shake himself back into coherency, registering the words and reminder. He could do that. God, he could do that.

His heart was hammering in his chest, fast and fragile sounding, like a rabbit's. Toby had never felt fear in his life, but luckily, adrenaline rushes, sick delight, and the ability to play a role worked wonders to getting something close enough to it for the right response. He squirmed and struggled, limbs flailing and shaking ineffectively, eyes wide and bright, sounds higher pitched and distressed, excited, or both. He imagined this would kick in an urge to only hold him down more- because Cecil was of a predator species to his human prey counterpart-- and to not let him go.

Not until he'd been fucked to completion, unable to protest, bruised, full of warmth and stupidly happy like an overpampered pet. That was the ideal.

Toby greatly enjoyed the way his body and mental state reacted to helplessness. When he encouraged Cecil, it all became less and less of an act. He really was trapped, weakened, and could barely get out a whimper or movement while his head spun and he was fucked hard against the wall. Fight or flight instincts were a total indecisive mess. Anxiousness stuck in his chest and racing thoughts to match up with his erratic attempts to escape, push away, and squirm-- continuously coupled with being high on morbid fascination and lust.

He groaned into the forceful kiss taken from him, blood dripping down his chin. Being jacked off while pounded into, roughed up, pinned, and everything else was a sensory overload. He felt wounded and attacked all over, with a heavy side of nerves-on-fire pleasure. There was an intimacy and closeness in this he could drool over. Nothing held back, more and more taken and given. It was entirely unpleasant, he knew, but the lack of control, the excessive and repeated use, made him feel desirable and special.

Toby came after Cecil did, crying out his name, unabashedly loud, a powerful shudder going up his spine. He flushed, cum in him and on his floor, continually flattered and flustered. He breathed softly for a few moments, but it didn't last, hair grabbed and facedown on a table now, gasp catching in his throat, heart skipping a beat. Yes, yes, this was what he wanted. No time to come down from this state of desperate energy and sensitivity, nothing fading.

He was rendered rather immobile once again, hands behind his back and ass in the air, giving a quiet huff and grinning. He fidgeted a bit while Cecil took off his shirt, impatient to be ravished. Ah, this was hot, both in the sexual sense and the fact that he was burning up. He sighed pleasantly when Cecil's cock was back in him, and turned his head to let the man see his pink cheeks and glittering, idolizing eyes. "Yes! Always. I hope you are too." He pushed to meet Cecil's thrusts a bit, like the thirsty gay fuck he was, panting a bit. "Ah, um--" he stuttered, forgetting for a moment how to form sentences, but bouncing back. "I throw a lot of requests at you. If you have any, tell me, or just… make me do it." His attention on Cecil was very warm.