Octavia Blake (
okteiviakom) wrote2022-06-19 12:46 pm
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Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night
As requested, date night dinner had been Thai, and delicious. And dessert, right now, also delivered on both because it was banana roti.
And yet, Octavia could barely focus on it at all. Because of a talk, earlier in the week, there was... an anticipation, here. Still a little vague, still only mostly-but-not-entirely certain. Just hanging over the scene at the table, unspoken of but present.
About half of Octavia's serving of roti was still there, though rapidly vanishing. "You can really taste the banana."
[ooc: For that guy, and likely NSFW-bound.]
And yet, Octavia could barely focus on it at all. Because of a talk, earlier in the week, there was... an anticipation, here. Still a little vague, still only mostly-but-not-entirely certain. Just hanging over the scene at the table, unspoken of but present.
About half of Octavia's serving of roti was still there, though rapidly vanishing. "You can really taste the banana."
[ooc: For that guy, and likely NSFW-bound.]
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It made him ache.
And then he pressed again. Slowly, he felt his body take the plug, until the beads pushed in and suddenly-- it was flush against his skin.
He clicked record.
"Of course, darling," he said, his voice ragged. "I can take anything for you."
He moved the phone's camera away from his face and down, between his legs, where two of his fingers still pressed against the plug's base. Sent.
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Another voice message. She sounded pleased. Talked slow. "Maybe we should get you some even bigger toys."
Which was not a thing that had ever featured in any of Octavia's fantasies before, but maybe the safety of the distance and the half-unreal quality of only getting glimpses at what he was doing were helping her... play just that little bit more freely with batting around ideas.
A text followed: Now turn it on, straight to 3
There were six settings for the rotating beads and the vibration in the body, and she didn't want him to bother getting used to it on the lower ones.
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(Thinking about that too much felt like asking for trouble, with all things being as they were.)
Instead he clicked record again. Filmed himself picking up the remote and pushing it up one, two, three-- "Ah."
He almost fumbled with the phone before he managed to turn it off. He'd... forgotten what this toy could feel like. But now he remembered.
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(The cider probably helped, actually.)
And, yeah, that video proved she'd been right to go for that setting. Not that she was surprised, because she remembered vividly what the effects of this particular toy on him were.
Tell me how it feels
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"Well, it's still not genuine rimming or anything of the sort," he said, with a slight tremble in his voice. "But it's... distracting. I can feel it moving quite vividly... and sometimes it slides along places that are very, very sweet..."
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He could be upstairs, naked and exposed with a toy inside him, and she could be downstairs on the couch, fully dressed and on her phone, as if nothing at all was happening.
Does it make you want to touch yourself?
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"Yes," he breathed, like a confession. Sent that.
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But not nearly desperate enough. So...
4
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Next setting.
He released a louder breath, some of the muscles in his face tugging upward at the extra stimulation.
"Four," he managed.
Sent.
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And what she wanted him to do now called for encouragement: her voice, just as low and raspy as before. "Now you get to touch yourself." A pause, as if that was all, but no. "But if you get close, you will stop."
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She received another video. His fist, wrapped around his length, pumping fast and rough. "I will stop," Lucifer panted, and let his hips buck up into his hand.
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And settled in to rewatch that video a few times. Just because. It had nothing to do with the ache between her own legs, just like the way she shifted in place didn't, either.
Don't be absurd.
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"Oh," he groaned, the phone seemingly carelessly positioned against the nightstand, showing his body stretched out on the bed, his hand and cock visible on the far end. "Oh. Mmm, Octavia..."
A moan.
And then a whimper, as he squeezed his length one single time and slid his hand off of himself. Reached for the phone with it.
That was the end of the video.
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It was a shame he couldn't see Octavia watching the video, pupils blown, breathing shallow. Nor was he going to hear how she would've sounded like, right now.
Too bad.
Tell me how it feels
She shifted once more. Curled up further. Made the shape of her body so that it was easy to switch the phone from one hand to the other, and sneak the newly free oone between her legs. Just pressure, through layers of fabric, like his hands over her breasts, before.
Just pressure.
... A rubbing kind, as she re-watched the video, watching his hand move, his body tense for a release that wasn't coming.
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His eyes fluttered shut. He sounded close to a desperate laugh.
He sent it.
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She wasn't going to, though. Neither was she going to let him know.
Good, she sent back. Stay in that feeling
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"As you wish."
Strained. And submitting.
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And she left him in it. While she thought about how he looked right now, how hard he was, whether the constant stimulation made him squirm. And also while she rewatched some of the videos so far. Like a tiny, personal library of porn, just for her and her... pressure.
Eventually, though, there was another voice message from her end, as well.
"Now do it again."
Maybe she sounded a little more breathless, this time.
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Then he just... hit the record audio button, and let it pick up his every groan and gasp.
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Not right now, though.
Too busy admiring that photo.
Too busy sinking a little further on the couch, finally sliding her fingers under one -- no, both layers of fabric, down the front of her thankfully fairly loose pants.
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It was close. So close. So--
He gasped, wrenching his hand away from himself, and whined. A fumble. The camera, back on, pointed at his straining cock. "I didn't," he breathed. "I stopped, I did."
Send.
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And then, exquisite video of just how obedient he was. Who could blame her for focusing on herself for just a moment longer, there? And a few filthy memories, equally filthy hopes --
Good devil, she managed, eventually. And thought about things for a second, what she wanted to hear, or see, and how likely he would be able to operate his phone much at all soon.
And now there was an incoming video call - though her camera was pointed towards the ceiling.
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He pressed a thumb that felt entirely too big and clumsy right now to the phone and accepted the call, treating Octavia to the sight of his hair in disarray, sweat sliding along his skin.
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Octavia turned her own camera all the way off so she could hold the phone however she wanted. He didn't get to see her right now, that wasn't how this worked.
"Hi," she said. A beat. "Five."
That was all.
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He didn't quite cry out, but the groan had a desperate edge as the toy moved its pace to too much.
He remembered it.
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