RavenDaas
Vylinius of Varathia
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I'm not married to the prompt below. Writing samples and other information pinned to my profile, I'll be requesting similar information from you. This prompt is just meant to be a short-term ERP. Nothing ambitious; some background is provided down below, but, TLDR is that YC is a usurped princeling turned brothel whore with some 'favorite' clientele that regularly visit from the old regime.
Limits: I don't enjoy extreme kinks, so don't ask. Examples include non-con, bodily fluids besides sweat and cum, permanent injury, hyper anything, as examples. Bad literacy.
Kinks: Spanking. Grumpiness / mild reluctance during sex. Some comedic effect and licensing. Twinks. Hatefucking. Orgasm denial and control. Overstimulation, little bit of focus in prostates. Good writing.
Crowned-Prince Morgan couldn't bear to recall whether or not he had come to deserve the fate he'd come to be familiar with for the last year and twenty-three days. What minor slights and social fauxes had lead this vassal and that one into conspiracy against him, to invite a foreigner to take his throne from underneath him.
He cringed at the thought. A stark reminder that the fucker had indeed taken the throne beneath him. And Morgan himself atop it. And then a good number of the rest of the court too, just to rub it in.
Not this one, of course. No. Even nearly eight months into his newly acquired 'position,' a granted job to assure that he had a career and income, the man he was currently riding astride as his hands dug into Morgan's ass had continued to vocalize his outrage at the assignment, a disgrace shown to a defeated enemy that had been unable to even defend himself. 'Spite ought to be beyond us,' he'd said, trying to play to their honor and sensibility in what might happen if they too were overthrown, what the expectations might be if this is how they treated the fallen.
But, he'd never had Morgan's ass or mouth, so it was understandable how naive he was.
That must've been why they brought him to Morgan one day, Morgan told only that it was someone's birthday, a special occasion, and that their fetish needed to be fulfilled - the boy was very familiar with this by now. He celebrated a different birthday nearly every week. The blindfold was nothing interesting. The cock was different though. Having the same ones inside of you had a way of ingraining them in your memory, and as he sat on his hands and knees taking this one, lapping at this one, deep throating it, he came to confirm halfway through that this was a new man altogether, a newly landed noble perhaps.
When the blindfold came off, any hope that he might rally a faction together to raise him from his position stopped. That same hunger was in his eyes, and it only seemed to grow more intense as it settled in that it was his boy-prince that he was so close to cuming inside of.
Fuck. Maybe it was the fact Morgan moaned when he started moving again.
That wasn't the case here. Of course their second session would involve him ordering Morgan to ride him. It was only sensible, and useful, if Morgan cared for useful things. They were alone. A very different thing than the first time they'd 'met.' The cock that he was bouncing on, the rough and gnarled hands squeezing his hips were a distraction certainly, their surprisingly clean room with only a bed and stand utterly silent except for whatever spies 'Emperor,' Cain definitely had outside the room to listen for conspiracy if any visits by his nobility weren't entirely carnal.
If Morgan cared enough to try at this point. The man beneath him had been loyal, once.
Limits: I don't enjoy extreme kinks, so don't ask. Examples include non-con, bodily fluids besides sweat and cum, permanent injury, hyper anything, as examples. Bad literacy.
Kinks: Spanking. Grumpiness / mild reluctance during sex. Some comedic effect and licensing. Twinks. Hatefucking. Orgasm denial and control. Overstimulation, little bit of focus in prostates. Good writing.
Crowned-Prince Morgan couldn't bear to recall whether or not he had come to deserve the fate he'd come to be familiar with for the last year and twenty-three days. What minor slights and social fauxes had lead this vassal and that one into conspiracy against him, to invite a foreigner to take his throne from underneath him.
He cringed at the thought. A stark reminder that the fucker had indeed taken the throne beneath him. And Morgan himself atop it. And then a good number of the rest of the court too, just to rub it in.
Not this one, of course. No. Even nearly eight months into his newly acquired 'position,' a granted job to assure that he had a career and income, the man he was currently riding astride as his hands dug into Morgan's ass had continued to vocalize his outrage at the assignment, a disgrace shown to a defeated enemy that had been unable to even defend himself. 'Spite ought to be beyond us,' he'd said, trying to play to their honor and sensibility in what might happen if they too were overthrown, what the expectations might be if this is how they treated the fallen.
But, he'd never had Morgan's ass or mouth, so it was understandable how naive he was.
That must've been why they brought him to Morgan one day, Morgan told only that it was someone's birthday, a special occasion, and that their fetish needed to be fulfilled - the boy was very familiar with this by now. He celebrated a different birthday nearly every week. The blindfold was nothing interesting. The cock was different though. Having the same ones inside of you had a way of ingraining them in your memory, and as he sat on his hands and knees taking this one, lapping at this one, deep throating it, he came to confirm halfway through that this was a new man altogether, a newly landed noble perhaps.
When the blindfold came off, any hope that he might rally a faction together to raise him from his position stopped. That same hunger was in his eyes, and it only seemed to grow more intense as it settled in that it was his boy-prince that he was so close to cuming inside of.
Fuck. Maybe it was the fact Morgan moaned when he started moving again.
That wasn't the case here. Of course their second session would involve him ordering Morgan to ride him. It was only sensible, and useful, if Morgan cared for useful things. They were alone. A very different thing than the first time they'd 'met.' The cock that he was bouncing on, the rough and gnarled hands squeezing his hips were a distraction certainly, their surprisingly clean room with only a bed and stand utterly silent except for whatever spies 'Emperor,' Cain definitely had outside the room to listen for conspiracy if any visits by his nobility weren't entirely carnal.
If Morgan cared enough to try at this point. The man beneath him had been loyal, once.