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Apr 19, 2019 10:19 AM
In Which Being A Member Of The Cult Of Bacchus Is Bad For Your Marriage Prospects
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"That sounds lovely." 

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"Right this way!"

There's a little alcove in the back of the house, with a door that shuts and locks. It fits two, if you don't mind accidentally brushing knees now and then.

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He follows. He does not at all mind brushing knees now and then. 

(This is a bad decision, he thinks as the door closes, but he doesn't want to stop —) 

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When the door closes, Ashley is kissing him. 

He's firm, he leads the kiss; it would be so easy to just go with it and not think about anything at all.

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It is. It's so easy, to put everything he's worried about aside.

He melts into Ashley, lets him lead and lets himself be led, lets his hands fall where they will. 

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Ashley has a hand in Lindsay's hair and he's pulling. He bites Lindsay's ear and then whispers in it, "Am I going to ruin you?"

His breath is hot. 

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Ohhhhh — he's, he's been dommed before but never like — 

"I don't know," breathy and between gasps, "are you?" 

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"Not unless you've already been ruined." He nibbles down Lindsay's neck. 

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He isn't a virgin but that was with other subs, that doesn't count, there's — 

"Please," he whispers, and doesn't know what he's pleading for. 

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"Don't beg for something unless you tell me what you're begging for," he says, and his hand is so gentle when it wraps around Lindsay's throat.

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Oh. Oh, that's what it was. 

"Please choke me." 

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Ashley kisses Lindsay, his hand around his throat, cutting off his air only the slightest bit.

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He kisses Ashley back, presses forward into Ashley's hand — he's good at kissing, maybe Ashley will —

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"Eager," Ashley chides into his mouth, and tightens his hand around Lindsay's neck.

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He moans and goes still under Ashley's hand. 

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"Quiet, unless you want them to hear you. Course, you might like that."

Asher's other hand is sneaking down the front of Lindsay's dress.

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A tiny whimper, he does like that but he can't 

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Ashley pinches his nipple.

"You'd like that, you'd like it if I dressed you up and paraded you around in front of everyone--"

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He bites off the sound he wants to make — nods, then nods again, quicker —

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"If they all looked at you and wanted you and knew that you were mine..."

Ashley keeps an eye on how much he's choking Lindsay-- enough to make his head swim, not enough that there's any risk of him passing out.

Skirts really give you very easy access. It's a design flaw. 

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"Please," just the barest whisper. His eyes fall closed and his back arches and he wants to moan and swallows down the noise —

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Ashley pinches his thigh hard. "What did I say?"

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"—not to beg unless I told you what I was begging for," very quickly. "Sir." He keeps pressing forward into Ashley. 

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"Good boy. I'm good but I can't read minds."

Lindsay's skirts are up around his hips and one of Ashley's hands is rubbing his dick teasingly. 

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The small bitten-off almost-moans are nearly constant now — his cheeks and shoulders are flushed, the blush deepens when Ashley calls him good boy —

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