Sylus Fanfiction - Tumblr Posts

word count: 3,141

pairing: sylus/mc

rating: explicit (18+)

tags: spanking, humiliation, vaginal fingering, squirting, vaginal sex, clothed sex, oral sex, come eating, brat taming, degradation, porn without plot, penis in vagina sex

Sylus' got you bent over his lap, skirt pulled up around your waist. He threatened to put you over his knee if you misbehaved, and you countered with: put me over your lap and consider whatever you do to me as repayment. It made him smile at the time.

Or: you walk right into one of Sylus' clever traps trying to pay off a debt.

(cross-posted to ao3)

You haven’t been playing according to his rules, because, well, he’s frustrating, he knows exactly how to edge himself in under your skin and get to you. And if you’re honest with yourself – something he delights in pulling out of you, much to your chagrin – he’s so damn good at it you have started enjoying walking into the traps he sets for you.

Not that you’d ever admit it to him.

“Kitten…” He sighs, dragging a finger up your exposed thigh, the touch sending goosebumps shivering across your skin. Even when you don’t want to, your body betrays you near him, like he knows how to call it in ways you have never known before. It’s… Exciting. A tangled and messy feeling you don’t know what to make of. Some days you want to drown in it, let it suffuse you, let it take you completely.

Tonight is veering there. And you really want to clear out some of the debt between the two of you.

He’s got you bent over his lap, skirt pulled up around your waist. He threatened to put you over his knee if you misbehaved, and you countered with, put me over your lap and consider whatever you do to me as repayment. It made him smile at the time.

“Are you chickening out?” you ask defiantly, turning to look over your shoulder at him. “If so, just pull my skirt down and –”

The palm of his hand lands on your ass, hard, and you jump a little, shocked at the sting of pain unfurling throughout your body, and hot on its heels comes another sensation, a hunger whispering more.

He chuckles at your reaction. “I’d never back down on a promise to you,” he says, dragging his nails over the sore spot on your ass, and you can’t catch the moan in the back of your throat fast enough as it spills out. “I did say if you failed my test again, I’d have to truly discipline you.”

“Hardly felt it,” you lie, feigning as much haughtiness as you can muster.

His hand is quick to react, hitting the bottom part of your ass harder. You inhale sharply through your nose, biting the inside of your cheek. There’s not letting him know just how much it stings, and the other part of knowing what this kind of pain does to you.

“Can you keep count for me, kitten?” He tenderly strokes the same spot he just hit, and you whine, blinking hard as you nod. “I can’t hear you. With your words, please.”

“Two,” you say, and the second word lingers on your tongue, the key to giving him what he wants, and you swallow it back down hard. All you have to do is call him master, and a whole new realm opens up between you. But not yet. All you have to do is say please, and... It'll get to his head so fast.

“Two, good. Seems you have enough thought in your head.” His palm hits your ass again, lighter this time, a touch that feels distractingly good. “Make sure not to lose count?”

“Or else?”

“Or else, I drop you on the floor and leave this room.”

You want to choke him. You want to beg and plead and you want to tie him down and make him stay with you here forever, right in the grey zone of tipping over, and you want him to hit you again so bad before he notices you’re dripping on his tailored pants.

“Three. Four. Five. Ah, ahhh, six, seven, ah! Eight!” Your whimpers echo in the room, intertwining with the sound of his dry palm on the warm skin of your ass, always finding a new angle to hit against so that each impact stings just enough to make tears threaten to spill. Not enough, but just enough to wrench something open inside you.

“What an impressive show you’re putting on,” he hums, his feather-light fingertips dancing across your skin. “Could it be that you are distracting me from something?”

“Such as?”

His finger stops, drifting down between your thighs, and the humiliating sound of wetness fills your ears, a hot blush blooming down your face.

“If you were trying to hide it,” he says, dragging his nail along the seam of your panties, “you did a poor job. It’s been glistening since before I even hit you.”

You let out a frustrated groan, digging your fingers into his leg.

“I know you’re aching to say it,” he laughs, his free hand pulling at your hair until you’re strung between his hands, taut and wanton, your back arched in a perfect curve. “Why don’t you try me? I have my moments of mercy, you know.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you hiss, your hips twitching. “Nothing I’ve seen from you has been close to merciful.”

“Is that what you think of me?” he drawls, clicking his tongue. “That won’t do.”

He moves his knuckle against your wet cunt, pressing the fabric in between the folds until you feel it glued to your skin and soaked through completely. The breath catches in your throat as he runs his fingers down your labia, as he circles the swell of your aching clit without touching it directly. It’s infuriating how close he is, how little of a touch you’d need to fall over the edge right now, and yet – he won’t. He’s a bastard and he knows it.

“See?” He strokes his wet fingertips against the seam of skin at the back of your thigh. “I could be so good to you if you let me. All you have to do–”

“Nine,” you say, breathing between gritted teeth. You won’t give him the satisfaction. Not yet. He has to earn it with every inch of his rotten self.

“If you’re sure,” he sighs, sounding more bored than excited as he raises his hand and it falls hard and sharp on the curve of your ass. “You make everything so hard for yourself.”

He’s not wrong, but it only solidifies your iron will. For a moment, at least. There is a little bit more force in his hand this time, a flick of the wrist at the end of the strike that stings so sweet and horrid in your flesh. The pain feels fresher, sharper, and you are ashamed at how badly you want it.

“Ten,” you say, barely able to contain the moan as his hand meets your skin. “So did that put a dent in my debt?”

“Barely.”

You huff. “Fine. Eleven.”

“Bold.” His hand connects with your skin and it’s like fireworks going off in your body. “But do you think you can keep this up?”

“Twelve.”

Another slap. “I will admit, it is delicious when it is you asking for the punishment yourself.” His grip tightens on your hair, and the strain on your neck makes it harder to swallow – and worse, harder to grit your teeth. Like everything he does, it has to be intentional. He knows you too well already.

“Thirteen,” you say, but your voice has a flutter to it.

“As you wish.”

Pain straddling pleasure straddling your certain unraveling creeping closer.

“Fourteen,” you whine. He’s won, he’s known that since the start, but you cling to the hope of dragging it out just a little more.

“Don’t wear yourself out, sweetheart,” he murmurs, shifting his legs. “I wouldn’t want you to be too sore.”

With the change in position, you can feel a tell-tale hardness pressing against your belly, and your resolution begins cracking at the edges. You whine, mouth watering at the thought of his cock in you, jaw quaking as you speak.

“Fifteen…”

It is hard to tell what is singing louder in your body as he spanks you, the pleasure or the pain, the fine line between them blurred completely. All you know is that you’re so wet all he has to do is slide one finger inside you and you’d crumble.

“Had enough?”

You nod, straining against his hand holding your hair.

“And what do we say?”

“Please,” you whimper, tears finally rolling down your cheeks. You blink, lashes heavy, and draw in a shaky breath. “Please, Sylus, touch me.”

“I knew you’d break eventually.” He laughs, soft and tender, but his voice is husky, betraying him just as much.

In one smooth move, he shoves the underwear aside and dips two fingers inside you, and you let out a scream as a surprise orgasm ripples out from the touch, so hard and fast that it pulls you under. You shake and thrash on his lap, squealing as he won’t let you get away from his fingers, pushing them in to the final knuckle and curving them down against your abdomen.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says, letting go of your hair to cup your chin, sticking two fingers into your mouth. “Now be still and take your reward like a good girl.”

The fingers in your pussy thrust in and out, the curve of them just right to hit your g-spot, and you don’t last long, still weak from the first orgasm he barely had to work for.

“You’re so easy for me,” he whispers in your ear, tip of his tongue touching the curve of it. “You’re soaking wet, all for me. Isn’t this a better use of your time? Of you?”

Your head spins from the way he’s talking, and you can’t come up with anything to snap back at him, shamefully sucking hard on his fingers instead, something to keep the drool from spilling from your lips.

His expert fingers press down inside you and you barely muffle the cry as another orgasm rolls through you, your entire body shaking as you feel the tell-tale wetness dripping down the inside of your legs. You moan and whimper, grinding futilely against him, unable to exert any control of your body.

“Ssh,” he intones, and you hold a shaky breath, listening.

Nothing, except your heart beating so hard you feel deaf to the world, and then: a wet drip-drip-drip on the cold marble floor.

“Hear that? That’s all you.”

Shame unfurls inside you, sticky and warm, and you feel how his fingering has opened you up. You clench around his fingers, but instead of continuing to fingerfuck you as you desire, he pulls them out and leaves you gaping open and empty, pushing you off his lap.

You squirm on the floor, humiliated and flushed and above all, weak – your limbs are soft, and it takes so much effort to even get up on your elbows to glare at him.

“You could try being gentle.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He bends down, wrapping your hair around his fist, hard enough to draw a hiss from your parched lips. “Now be a good girl and clean up the mess you made.” He runs his thumb over your lower lip, and your gaze flutters down between his thighs. Despite the low lighting in the room and the black pants he wears, you can tell he’s hard.

“And what’s my incentive?”

“I believe you can see it for yourself, no? So get to work.” He drops you unceremoniously, your face falling flat into the puddle you’ve created on the floor from how hard he made you squirt.

His fine designer shoes clack against the marble as he circles around you, watching, waiting. You wait until he’s within your line of sight before you stick your tongue out and lean down, licking along the cold floor in one long stripe. It’s humiliating, and he loves the sight of it.

“How far you’re willing to fall for me,” he murmurs, studying you with a smug smirk.

Your tense breathing aches in your chest, and you dip your head down again, licking up as much as you can and raising your head back up to show your open mouth as you swallow, sticking your tongue out.

“Good enough?” you ask.

“For now, yes.”

His eyes shimmer a brighter shade of red and shadowy tendrils wrap around you, lifting you up from the floor – a sensation you haven’t quite gotten used to yet. You gasp and writhe as he beckons you along to the nearby couch, depositing you facedown on top of it.

Before you even have a chance to turn around, he pins you down with his body on top of yours, the heat and pressure making you moan.

“Stay still for me, darling,” he hums against your neck, scraping his teeth along the sensitive skin. One of his hands find your neck, cradling it with a surprising amount of tenderness, his thumb swiping over your lower lip – and the other brushes against your naked ass, the telltale sound of a zipper opening making you whine deep in your throat.

“You could have ended that charade quicker if you’d just had some manners.” His cock freed, the tip brushes against your soaking wet folds and you think you might lose your mind if he doesn’t shut up and push into you already. “Then again, I adore watching you like this, rendered a filthy mess just for me to use.”

There’s a snappy demand on your tongue, but it turns to dust as he presses himself inside you from behind, pinning you down with his full body as he slides in slowly. His cock stretches you open, and you claw at the leather before he catches your hands and hold them still.

“Relax,” he whispers, biting your earlobe. “That’s just the tip.”

He takes his time, pressing and pushing inside of you, the position of you prone on the couch with him sliding into you from behind undoing you little by little. The angle has his cock dragging deliciously against all the good spots inside of you, and each time you think he’s all in he finds a way to press a little bit more.

When he finally, finally is flush against you and bottomed out, you heave a loud sob and feel a shivering orgasm drip out of you.

“How cute you are when you’re all sensitive like this.” He turns your face to the side, leaning in to lick at the tears sliding down your cheek. At the same time, he begins to move, a slow motion that drags against your insides and leaves you gasping for air. It’s too much it’s too good it’s too perfect, he fits inside you so well, he fills you up to the brim, and you can’t breathe properly for how good it feels to have him thrusting deep and hard inside you.

“Such a mess you’ve made of yourself.” He slides his hand down over your half-buttoned shirt, finding your breast and pinching the nipple so hard you cry out. “Sensitive? I’ll remember that.”

How dearly you wish he hadn’t stolen your way with words right about now.

When you cum again, he laughs, his tongue licking at your mouth until you stop quivering enough to return his kiss. He holds it and fucks you, slow and patient, wrenching pleasure after pleasure from you even as your ass aches from how he’s pressing down on the red welts he’s inflicted. You cry, moan, gasp and scratch at his hands, whimpering – but never for mercy, only for more.

As you orgasm, having lost count long ago, his breathing grows hot and heavy against your neck, and he leans his forehead against your back. The pace of his thrusts grow erratic, his fingers digging into your hips as he groans and buries himself deep inside of you, a hot heat following as he bites down on your shoulder when he cums.

Your breath trembles as he remains inside of you, and you feel… Messy, filthy, ruined, and absolutely adored. You rest your tear-stained cheek on the dark leather, his heart hammering hard against your rib cage as he goes soft inside you and you begin to feel the humiliating drip of his cum trickling out of you.

“It seems I’ve made a mess,” Sylus says, stroking his hand against your cheek. “That simply won’t do.”

You cry as he slides out of you, wanting him to stay longer, for hours, to keep his cock inside of you, to fill you up because that’s the best way to keep you, to use you.

With a tender touch, he guides you so you’re sitting somewhat upright, slumped against the backrest. You are a mess, drenched in both his and your own cum, skirt bunched up around your waist with torn seams at the thigh slit, breasts hanging out of your shirt. He doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he stops briefly to admire you, something so gentle and loving in his gaze that it makes you melt.

He kneels down on the floor between your knees, spreading them apart and letting them rest on his shoulders as he leans close to your swollen cunt and licks a long stripe along the labia. You sigh, a shiver passing through your body.

“Has anyone ever told you how delicious you taste?”

Before you get a chance to reply, he takes the opportunity from you – something he seems to treasure doing, you’re realizing – and dips his tongue inside of you, licking and sucking. He cleans you out with his tongue, swallowing and humming each time he does. All the while, his intense gaze has you pinned down. There’s so much in it you can’t read, but there’s such a devotion to him that it makes you feel exposed. Naked, beyond everything. Laid bare for his consumption.

“Did that put a dent in the debt?” you ask, hoping to pull some focus back to yourself. It’s so hard when his tongue is inside of you, cleaning up all he’s done to you as if he is the one owing you something.

He leans back, swallowing loudly. “I’d say you got somewhere.” His eyes sparkle with mirth, touching his lips to the inside of your thigh before standing up, pulling your skirt down and adjusting your shirt to cover up your breasts. “Though you can come up with something better, can’t you kitten?”

You glare at him, opening your mouth to a snarl – and he catches your chin, smirking down at you before leaning in to kiss you deep and hard, the salt on his tongue sending an electric spark through you all the way down to your core.

He drives you insane, he gets under your skin – and by all that is unholy and horrid about him, you want him right there, pushing you senseless, right on the edge of everything. Being with him feels like you’re one breath away from falling into a dark abyss, and you want to see if he catches you… Or falls with you.