The Dukes of Hazzard
May. 16th, 2008 11:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veiledndarknessTitle: By His Hand
Author: veiledndarkness
Pairing: Implied Boss Hogg/Enos Strate
Rating: PG-13
Summary: You both know why you're there, yes he knows...
Disclaimer: Not mine, no harm intended, no profit made.
Warning: Mild discipline, hand only.
xx
Breathe in...
Watch him circle you, watch him eying you, his eyes shrewd and piercing.
Breathe out...
He speaks, you listen, head tilted down, eyes on the obscenely expensive carpet, the whole room screams, smells of money, power and control. Power...control...he is these things.
Breathe in...
He commands your attention, his demand for you to submit, as though you wouldn't. You both know why you're there, yes he knows, the gleam in his eyes, the shift of his lips, curved in a genteel smirk.
Breathe out...
You drop over his knees, pants pooled around your ankles, counting the loose threads just visible on the edge of the carpet. His broad hand slides over your skin, following the narrow curves of your cheeks. No calluses on his hand, no he doesn't know the meaning of hard labor.
Breathe in...
Pain, it blossoms, it stings. You fight the urge to squirm away, the heat spreading fast over your skin. He chuckles and drops his hand again, more red prints, pain thick and hazy, a welcomed warmth.
Breathe out...
His voice is soothing as the tears run unchecked down your face. The fabric of your pants rubs, chafes at the tender skin. You grip his legs for balance, aching and aroused, something you know will go by unattended to, at least by him.
Breathe in...
You'll come again when he calls for you, chastises you for whatever you've done or haven't done. He knows this, you know this, and only sometimes do the words slip out in a conversation, words never meant for anyone else.
Breathe out...
xx
Author: veiledndarkness
Pairing: Implied Boss Hogg/Enos Strate
Rating: PG-13
Summary: You both know why you're there, yes he knows...
Disclaimer: Not mine, no harm intended, no profit made.
Warning: Mild discipline, hand only.
xx
Breathe in...
Watch him circle you, watch him eying you, his eyes shrewd and piercing.
Breathe out...
He speaks, you listen, head tilted down, eyes on the obscenely expensive carpet, the whole room screams, smells of money, power and control. Power...control...he is these things.
Breathe in...
He commands your attention, his demand for you to submit, as though you wouldn't. You both know why you're there, yes he knows, the gleam in his eyes, the shift of his lips, curved in a genteel smirk.
Breathe out...
You drop over his knees, pants pooled around your ankles, counting the loose threads just visible on the edge of the carpet. His broad hand slides over your skin, following the narrow curves of your cheeks. No calluses on his hand, no he doesn't know the meaning of hard labor.
Breathe in...
Pain, it blossoms, it stings. You fight the urge to squirm away, the heat spreading fast over your skin. He chuckles and drops his hand again, more red prints, pain thick and hazy, a welcomed warmth.
Breathe out...
His voice is soothing as the tears run unchecked down your face. The fabric of your pants rubs, chafes at the tender skin. You grip his legs for balance, aching and aroused, something you know will go by unattended to, at least by him.
Breathe in...
You'll come again when he calls for you, chastises you for whatever you've done or haven't done. He knows this, you know this, and only sometimes do the words slip out in a conversation, words never meant for anyone else.
Breathe out...
xx
