[ Bucky is feeling good tonight, addicted to the opulence of Steve's world and his place in it, on the arm of the most beautiful, powerful man he's ever known, accompanying him to the kinds of venues a whore from the streets could only dream about. He's drunk on brandy that costs hundreds of dollars per glass, his chest and belly glowing warm, pleasure thrumming through his veins from Steve's nearness, from the slow deep kisses they exchanged as they rode through the city streets in a black- tinted car; he isn't quite hard yet but there's a pleasurable ache as he and Steve walk into the club, welcomed by the attractive young maître d.
Everything surrounding them is sleek and expensive, the music a throbbing beat, champagne and liquor flowing freely, men and women dressed in their glittering best all around them: gorgeous and wealthy, every one, though there's no one here who comes close to Steve, Bucky thinks. No one else with his perfect, golden beauty, his gentle strength. As they thread their way through the club, Steve guiding him assuredly among the rich and powerful, he turns his head and presses hot, soft kisses to Steve's throat, nipping tenderly at his ear. Bucky wants him, and he can't wait until they're alone and he can get his hands on him.
It's only when they come to the center of the room, in a circular area set apart like a stage, and he sees the collared men and women kneeling naked at the feet of the club's patrons that Bucky realizes Steve has no intention of waiting until they're alone.
A hot flush hits his cheeks the moment Steve turns to kiss him and murmur in his ear, his eyes going wide and dark. Steve, he...he wants Bucky here, among these human pets, men and women who are so clearly here for the pleasure of their masters. He gives him one pleading glance, but Bucky swore to this, he promised himself to Steve whenever, wherever he wanted, and he wants so badly to be touched, he wants Steve's hands and mouth on him, his cock in him--there's a hot, shamed pleasure burning under his skin as he reaches for his jacket lapels with fingers that tremble faintly, wondering how far this will go. If he's here just to be looked at, or...
Right now he can feel himself being looked at as he shrugs out of his jacket and undoes the knot of his tie, can feel more and more eyes turning as he blushes hotter and methodically strips away each piece of clothing, taking him in with interested, covetous gazes, someone's new pet. ]
[ Steve's new, prized pet, to be more exact. He's aware of all the eyes on Bucky; had in fact specifically engineered it to be so -- Bucky is the most beautiful, alluring creature in the room, to be sure, and already he's hearing whispers, watching the others come close when every item of clothing is set aside.
Soon, when Bucky's naked and bared to the entire club, Steve signals his own pleasure at his obedience with a gentle hand on the small of his back. Look at him, this beauty, this man who has pledged himself so fully to him. He reaches into his pocket, draws out a collar dripping with exquisite diamonds, and fastens it onto his throat, kissing his ear when he's done.
Nothing but the very best.
His fingers move around him to wrap his fingers around his growing cock, claiming him before everyone present, before he draws away. Meanwhile, a staff picks up Bucky's discarded clothes, neatly folding it and setting it aside until he needs it again. Now, it's time for Bucky to be exposed to them all as his slut, his whore, his beloved fucktoy.
He starts towards one of the other booths and takes a seat with a few business associates, and gestures for his Bucky to get on his knees. ]
[ He can feel himself burning all over by the time he removes the last piece of clothing, already half-hard with the humiliation of it, the sensation of being utterly owned. Bucky's performed in front of others before, accompanied someone to a party or club where he was meant to be groped and showed off, but never like this, with a magnificent collar fastened around his throat and the eyes of the richest men and women in Europe taking him in with unabashed jealousy, envying Steve his beautiful whore. Never with Steve wrapping his warm hand around him as though declaring his claim, so that Bucky gasps and jerks into his touch and leans back trembling against him, wanting. He can feel his cock filling out with every moment that passes, the weight of diamonds heavy around his throat and Steve's firm hand so beloved.
Bucky shuts his eyes for a moment and then opens them again as Steve moves away, relief flooding him when he gestures for him to follow, even if he is to do it on his knees. He sinks down, legs shaking, face flushed hot with shame as he feels all those watching eyes at his back, as he crawls to Steve's side; he's sitting with his business partners, men Bucky has met before, shaken hands and talked with over drinks or in the midst of a glittering gala. They're looking at him too, admiring him. Seeing him as he truly is, as Steve's prized possession.
He lays his head against Steve's thigh and doesn't try to hide himself. Beneath the seething tangle of pleasure and humiliation there is pride, too, because he belongs to Steve, because Steve Rogers is a better man than any who have ever set foot in this room. Bucky knows it; Bucky would do injury to any man who dared to deny it. He loves him beyond anything, beyond his pride, beyond his own life, beyond everything he gave up to cross an ocean with Steve and be with him always.
Bucky turns and nuzzles into his lap, slowly, with soft, hot lips. Let them all watch, let them see how much he loves his master. ]
[ Bucky Barnes is a work of art, gorgeous and beyond anyone Steve has ever loved and coveted. He keeps Bucky close, assuring him silently -- he's the only one he wants, and he's not oblivious to the way they all look at Bucky, drawn to the man's nakedness, his raw, incredible beauty.
Bucky's meant for all of this, and he gently pets him, running his fingers through his hair as he leans back, engages his business partners like it's the most natural thing in the world to have his sweetest whore pay attention to him. Pleasure coils in his spine, as does the fact that there is no one who doesn't turn to look at Bucky, to this man who so obediently takes to him without a word.
They want him, and Steve knows it, but he's secure in the fact that his lover has eyes for no one else. Tugging him closer, his cock pressing against the confines of his expensive pants, he presses into those lips. Bucky would get another lavish gift once they're done tonight -- and he'll be sure to reward him with affection, with love once they get home.
[ It's far easier to tuck his flushed face into Steve's lap than to try to meet the gaze of his business partners that keep sliding covetously towards him even as they carry on low conversation, or to let himself be aware of all the rest of the club around them, how eyes keep straying towards their table, men and women who could buy anything they desired in the world envying Steve his beautiful whore. They couldn't buy him. There isn't another man in the world that Bucky would give what he's given Steve: his heart, his very life and all rights to his body. And Steve would never share him, he's sure of that. The others can look, but they can't touch.
Steve tugs him closer so that he can feel the swell of his cock under the silky fabric of his pants, and Bucky obediently nuzzles against it, pressing soft, slow, hot kisses, tracing the shape of it with his lips. He's breathing in Steve's scent, the erotic musk of his arousal, his desire, and his entire body is trembling, eager for a taste. A part of him can't believe what he's doing, can't believe that he's naked on his knees with his face pressed into his lover's lap, a collar of glittering jewels clasped around his throat: as clearly a pet and a prize as any marking could make him, belonging utterly to Steve. Shame burns in his skin, stings his closed eyes, and under the humiliation there is such abject wanting, to be used, to exist only for Steve's pleasure.
Finally he reaches to undo Steve's belt with fingers that tremble slightly, needing no prompting. He knows exactly what's expected of him, his lips parting around the silky, broad head of Steve's cock as soon as he tugs it free of his trousers, his mouth sinking down on it, the heavy, delicious shaft filling him up, pressing down on his tongue. Someone's envious sigh isn't lost in his ears--look at him, Steve's beautiful whore, willing and eager for his master's pleasure. ]
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allmymuscles2015-02-20 09:42 am
no subject
Everything surrounding them is sleek and expensive, the music a throbbing beat, champagne and liquor flowing freely, men and women dressed in their glittering best all around them: gorgeous and wealthy, every one, though there's no one here who comes close to Steve, Bucky thinks. No one else with his perfect, golden beauty, his gentle strength. As they thread their way through the club, Steve guiding him assuredly among the rich and powerful, he turns his head and presses hot, soft kisses to Steve's throat, nipping tenderly at his ear. Bucky wants him, and he can't wait until they're alone and he can get his hands on him.
It's only when they come to the center of the room, in a circular area set apart like a stage, and he sees the collared men and women kneeling naked at the feet of the club's patrons that Bucky realizes Steve has no intention of waiting until they're alone.
A hot flush hits his cheeks the moment Steve turns to kiss him and murmur in his ear, his eyes going wide and dark. Steve, he...he wants Bucky here, among these human pets, men and women who are so clearly here for the pleasure of their masters. He gives him one pleading glance, but Bucky swore to this, he promised himself to Steve whenever, wherever he wanted, and he wants so badly to be touched, he wants Steve's hands and mouth on him, his cock in him--there's a hot, shamed pleasure burning under his skin as he reaches for his jacket lapels with fingers that tremble faintly, wondering how far this will go. If he's here just to be looked at, or...
Right now he can feel himself being looked at as he shrugs out of his jacket and undoes the knot of his tie, can feel more and more eyes turning as he blushes hotter and methodically strips away each piece of clothing, taking him in with interested, covetous gazes, someone's new pet. ]
no subject
Soon, when Bucky's naked and bared to the entire club, Steve signals his own pleasure at his obedience with a gentle hand on the small of his back. Look at him, this beauty, this man who has pledged himself so fully to him. He reaches into his pocket, draws out a collar dripping with exquisite diamonds, and fastens it onto his throat, kissing his ear when he's done.
Nothing but the very best.
His fingers move around him to wrap his fingers around his growing cock, claiming him before everyone present, before he draws away. Meanwhile, a staff picks up Bucky's discarded clothes, neatly folding it and setting it aside until he needs it again. Now, it's time for Bucky to be exposed to them all as his slut, his whore, his beloved fucktoy.
He starts towards one of the other booths and takes a seat with a few business associates, and gestures for his Bucky to get on his knees. ]
no subject
Bucky shuts his eyes for a moment and then opens them again as Steve moves away, relief flooding him when he gestures for him to follow, even if he is to do it on his knees. He sinks down, legs shaking, face flushed hot with shame as he feels all those watching eyes at his back, as he crawls to Steve's side; he's sitting with his business partners, men Bucky has met before, shaken hands and talked with over drinks or in the midst of a glittering gala. They're looking at him too, admiring him. Seeing him as he truly is, as Steve's prized possession.
He lays his head against Steve's thigh and doesn't try to hide himself. Beneath the seething tangle of pleasure and humiliation there is pride, too, because he belongs to Steve, because Steve Rogers is a better man than any who have ever set foot in this room. Bucky knows it; Bucky would do injury to any man who dared to deny it. He loves him beyond anything, beyond his pride, beyond his own life, beyond everything he gave up to cross an ocean with Steve and be with him always.
Bucky turns and nuzzles into his lap, slowly, with soft, hot lips. Let them all watch, let them see how much he loves his master. ]
no subject
Bucky's meant for all of this, and he gently pets him, running his fingers through his hair as he leans back, engages his business partners like it's the most natural thing in the world to have his sweetest whore pay attention to him. Pleasure coils in his spine, as does the fact that there is no one who doesn't turn to look at Bucky, to this man who so obediently takes to him without a word.
They want him, and Steve knows it, but he's secure in the fact that his lover has eyes for no one else. Tugging him closer, his cock pressing against the confines of his expensive pants, he presses into those lips. Bucky would get another lavish gift once they're done tonight -- and he'll be sure to reward him with affection, with love once they get home.
Tonight, here? Here, he's here as a prize. ]
no subject
Steve tugs him closer so that he can feel the swell of his cock under the silky fabric of his pants, and Bucky obediently nuzzles against it, pressing soft, slow, hot kisses, tracing the shape of it with his lips. He's breathing in Steve's scent, the erotic musk of his arousal, his desire, and his entire body is trembling, eager for a taste. A part of him can't believe what he's doing, can't believe that he's naked on his knees with his face pressed into his lover's lap, a collar of glittering jewels clasped around his throat: as clearly a pet and a prize as any marking could make him, belonging utterly to Steve. Shame burns in his skin, stings his closed eyes, and under the humiliation there is such abject wanting, to be used, to exist only for Steve's pleasure.
Finally he reaches to undo Steve's belt with fingers that tremble slightly, needing no prompting. He knows exactly what's expected of him, his lips parting around the silky, broad head of Steve's cock as soon as he tugs it free of his trousers, his mouth sinking down on it, the heavy, delicious shaft filling him up, pressing down on his tongue. Someone's envious sigh isn't lost in his ears--look at him, Steve's beautiful whore, willing and eager for his master's pleasure. ]