elftaint: FRANK. N. FURTER. (Default)
WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT: It's over here, the thread where I lost my dignity.

SO WHAT THE HELL: Hey remember where we left off last time? I will never forget it.

Rising up after a few more lengthy seconds, he lapped soothingly and replaced his mouth with a hand, stroking with sensual intent. Coughing quietly, he cleared his throat and swallowed, returning the raw insides to their saliva-coated state and leaning on an elbow as he kissed his way back up a chest, nipping the tail of an intricate tattoo.

A little hoarse, he asked, "Are you okay with me taking you?" The tip of his nose dragged up a collar-bone, tracing the knolls momentarily; kissing a little higher, he applied the same suction to the arch of a throat. "It's okay if not, but I want to feel you around me."

OH MY GOD. (Quick break: this is still a really well-written tag though, isn't it!)

I sat on this for like a day and finally sent a PM to Kasumi-mun stating something like:

Ha ha... really?
Which is a completely bitch-ass thing to say. Kasumi, sensible and mature, replied:

Man, it's cool, whichever is absolutely fine to me - most likely Kas won't mind that much either if Seymour's all RARR MUST SEME, since he's completely used to it. Act as IC as you want, honestly. Kas won't throw a fit, he's mature enough to be snarky without being a dick at the same time.
Which only made me feel worse for being a stickler on this point.

The Law Of Seme Ass

The Law Of Seme Ass is: you must be better than the seme at something major. Taller, stronger, smarter, faster, MOAR POAWERS, something. It is sadly not enough to just be the most adorable guy ever.

I think that if Seymour ever took it up the butt from someone at TLH, it would have to be either crack (i.e. pegged by Didi from Dexter's Lab, bent over the couch by a very aggressive C3PO) or someone whose immense glee made him unstoppable - like Kasumi. Kasumi, who was titled The Joytopper by my followers-on. But it would have to be someone like Kasumi, not Kasumi himself.

At the same time, I felt kind of bummy about it, like "pfft am I just holding out for no reason like a little bitch?" In fact, I may have been. It is only pretendy fun-times after all. Yet I was still reticent, and Seymour's sentiment even in the loose sense that I interpret IC was: one requires a slightly smoother approach than "are you okay with me taking you?" in lieu of anything else.

If Kasumi-mun had said "this is something I really want", we would have made it happen. But instead Kasumi-mun said "PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT w/e."

At the same time, I thought it was inappropriate to do the scene such that Seymour is ramming Kasumi. The mood was all wrong. This was just not meant to be a physically penetrative encounter. I negotiated down to mutual frot, let's leave it at that.

.... Frottage is cool for me! If you'd prefer a steamy 69, that's all gravy too. Seymour can screw (ha HA back at you) with Kasumi's head all he wants, the boy likes to keep attentive and responds well to - or should I say falls for? - distractions.
Actually Kasumi-mun was more than cool about it. Seymour was even given some rather advanced-level permissions to do a bit of headfucking and whatnot. Next tiiiiiimmmmeeee.~

Anyway back to the action.

His smile fell - peculiarly faltering and vulnerable for him. His hand slid from Kasumi's fine yellow hair to the small of his back, and he held him close. He took a deep breath, his expression unfocused, and at last he held Kasumi's violet eyes with his own and murmured, "It isn't what I want. Not in the way you meant." It was unlike him to be so hesistant, but this situation wasn't like anything he was accustomed to, either.

He traced a trail all arabesques down Kasumi's chest. His fingertips rejoiced in the hotness of him and the way his naive fragrance rose from everywhere he touched; at last they closed around his erection and he rolled the surface of his palm against it lightly. "But come, there are other pleasures."

Aw poor Seymour.

One thing that sticks out about this exchange is that I very seldom see TLH threads where lovers disagree on how to love in character - I think it's usually all handled mun-side and the characters themselves always have perfect movie sex. There was something rather erotically-charged about the naturalness of this particular scenario. Not that it would stop me from continuing to flip Kasumi seme bullshit, and not that it would stop Kasumi from flipping cute boy shit at absolutely the entire planet.

"Give me your mouth," He hummed, the arm around Kasumi's back tightening with genuine warmth.


"That'd be hard, s'kind of attached," Kasumi stuttered, a moan breaking over his lips without warning as his erection pulsed with need, bucking into an obliging hand. Shaking his head to clear it and not to be outdone, he renewed his efforts of stroking, nipping at addictive lips.

"Trade off," he grinned, quirking an eye-brow. "What do I get?"



"Don't get cute with me. I'm a very important man." Seymour leered, though the effect was undercut by the naked urgency with which he pumped against the hand that enclosed him. He caught Kasumi's playful lips and sank his teeth into the lower - not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to hold him.

"Howe stiw."

OH COME ON THIS IS CUTE AS FUCKING HELL. This is absolutely an entire litter of sexy kittens' worth of cute. These two bantering: ahn~ <3

Seymour is butching up as I relax into the flow of the scene again - I read these lines mentally as being very "high-powered 80's executive comedy", you know, where the adorable yet ambitious young exec is mashing on the older boss man in a doorway near a room where a lot of black lacquered furniture resides. Come on, guys. You see it too, right?

Right?

C'mon guys. Hrnnn.

Butching Up

I don't want to get into a too-extended discussion about how to write Manlier Dialog because it's a subject on which I will wax overlong. But here are three rules that will get anyone off to a good start:

1. Be brief yet specific.
2. Be direct.
3. Use the imperative tense without exclamation points.

Menergy is all about being unashamed to ask for what you want, and to do so with the idea that you already deserve it. It is all about saying what you mean because why on earth wouldn't you.

He could feel rays of Kasumi-desire glaze over him, and - sensitive in his own way, when it suited him, and it so suited him now - Seymour wrapped his huge hand over and around his lover's where it lay on his hungry cock. He could get both of them in hand when they were lined up like this, and still had spare enough for his fingers to brush the inside of his own palm. "Let me," he urged against Kasumi's fever-hot mouth, his tongue flicking its intricate corners. "Just stay close."
You sure are a top, Seymour! You sure are.

I can't help it sometimes. :( No, I don't want to help it. Fortunately Kasumi was willing to play along a little now.

A ragged gasp was drawn out of him and he furled his arms around a body so much broader than his own, absently running his now free hand over the tattoos that held him fixated, wondering if they meant anything. Scattering his fingers down a waist, he clawed with gentle urgency, moans thickening into messy kisses as Kasumi's tenuous hold on manners finally began to slip.

"S-Seymour - hah, ah -"

Words trickled unbeknown amidst the urgent growls that continued to build in his chest, pinning a hip with the single-minded intent of grinding down that much harder. Pleasure began to uncurl in the pit of his belly, sparking startled cries as he chased it, the tang of salt heady under his tongue.

"Yes ..."





Ah, lovely. So often I am presented with what I like to call the Caterpillar Uke: this is the bottom who wriggles and moans and that's... it. I am catastrophically uninterested in that sort of thing.

The impassioned, affectionate, gripping, kissing, touching, panting, alive uke - even if, as in this case, it's not really an uke at all - is clearly a superior article.

Our heroes totally spooge all over each other shortly after this and it is beautiful. Aw, how sweet, now they can shut up and cud-

He was insensate as he slumped back against the bed, his arm trailing limply around slender white shoulders. After a long rumbling sigh, he eventually wedged his hand out from between them and let his fingers enjoy the luxury of cupping Kasumi's elegant hip instead. His pulse slowed, and the sweat that had gathered on his skin had started to dry.

"Shall we marry?" He asked quietly, in a sere and diffident tone.

OH SEYMOUR REALLY.

Over in OOC land I was still smarting from getting so completely led around in this scene, and I was all "TIME TO FLIP SHIT AT THE LITTLE MAN."

...Sighing in parody of his lover with luxurious decadence.

"You're the bride," he grumbled, smiling as tickles shivered across his shoulders.

"No u."

"I look well in white," Seymour amenably replied, laughing quietly in counterpoint. "Though I will be asked why my groom is so runty."
First things first: "I look well in white" was a punchline handed to me from a third party following the thread. Hi third party!

Would Seymour Guado ever use the word "runty", really? I have no idea anymore. I ran through a hundred synonyms for "smaller" and "runty" was the only one that was perfectly playfully insulting. In any event, his gracious antiphony here is of my favorite genre of masculinity. Educated, subtle, good-humored, and unafraid to slum it up a little.

"I'm not runty, you're just stupidly buff. Insult me in half an hour," he instructed, settling down for a nap to regain his senses and the ability to walk.
Perfect. It is exactly the right pitch of cute - endearing without being shrill or supplicating. Kasumi isn't asking for a pat on the head here, he is making a succinct demand to a six-foot-tall alarm clock.

I didn't talk a lot about sex in this post mortem because the sex aspect of this scene was just - relentlessly and evenly good-quality. I would have to quote everything at that rate. I think it was the power dynamics and the adorable banter that made this one for me. I would be delighted to thread with Kasumi again, though I think Seymour might claim he has to see the dentist or something. Thanks very much to Kasumi-mun [livejournal.com profile] i_was_serious!
elftaint: FRANK. N. FURTER. (Default)
WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT: It's over here, the thread where I lost my manhood.

SO WHAT THE HELL: When we left off last time, I had begun to stick a plot in some PWP out of despair while Kasumi was relentlessly molesting me. Then:

He groaned low in his throat and covered his eyes, flowers of warmth blooming under Kasumi's hands and lips, his hips undulating under the chilling cellular tickle of those intrusive nails. His stomach muscles clenched viciously as he strained towards his teasing touch and he began to pant like a senseless animal. His fingers splayed almost reflexively over the younger man's satiny shoulders.

This was rapidly getting out of control. He had the heartstopping thought that one of them was in grave danger, but he was no longer clear on which.

Seymour was freaking out! It's so unlike him to lose his cool. But then, it's so different for him to be so deliciously attacked like this.

I have to be careful to separate IC and OOC here, which is normally not a problem for me because I deliberately picked a character to play with whose nature is very much like my own.

IC: Seymour is pretty much freaking out.

OOC: I am enjoying the hell out of being taken for a ride but I can't understand why it is that I'm not in control of the situation.

So there are notes of pleasure, confusion, sorrow, lust etc. going on in this tag. All these Kasumi tags are so busy on an emotional level!

Quirking a brow at how easily riled the other man became, Kasumi once again reminded himself that no, he wasn't in Kansas - or to be more specific, Tochigi - anymore and yes, he was probably going to be surrounded by the weirdest, most curious individuals for the rest of his natural, nexus-screwed life. Dipping his head to the centre of a built chest, he allowed himself a moment to inhale the scent that stemmed from the core of his newfound lover, lapping belatedly across a tattoo of a wild animal - lion, dragon? - as clean musk infiltrated his sinuses, holding him captive.

Splaying the hand on Seymour's hip, Kasumi raised his head with a kind smile; younger he might have been, but that really didn't mean anything when he sensed his partner was nearing distress.

"Hey," he quietly muttered, sweeping a caress across the ripples of an abdomen. "You okay there, blue?"

Casually draping a bent knee over a partially-clothed thigh, he let him know without words that he wasn't going anywhere, whatever the answer.





To which Kasumi was delightfully sensitive.

I was totally all "DO NOT FOURTHWALL ME YOU BITCH" IRL but I learned to relax. That's another thing that happened a lot in this thread: me overreacting to stuff just because I was so unused to Kasumi-nature, and having to take a step back and be all "ha ha slow down there big guy."

Hey let's look at a few Textbook Good Things going on in this Kasumi tag.

1. Kasumi is always direct and specific. Dude is gonna lick your chest and you will not have any questions about what he's doing. I totally got whiplash off of this after so many threads, both at TLH and other places, where a guy licking my chest will be worded like "Sparkle-chan delicately placed his oral muscle on a part of Seymour just below his neck and it was soooooo sexy."

2. Kasumi is the opposite of a powergamer. He doesn't have any magic powers, he's not going to make you cum with psionics, he isn't seven feet tall and the world's greatest swordsman. He's just a guy, and in that he gets to do Actual Guy Stuff like be sensitive to his partner's distress and put his tongue all over someone and giggle. He doesn't have a reputation to maintain or face to preserve. Excellent.

3. Kasumi doesn't underwrite or overwrite. I do both with great regularity, so I can particularly appreciate the approach here. Kasumi's actions, thoughts, and words are described clearly yet without excess fat, self-description, internal monologue, etc.

4. You never have to guess what Kasumi wants. He's a cute guy who wants to get his dick wet and wants his partner to have a good time while that happens. The story ends there!

Hard on the heels of this thread I got so involved in a thread that can be best described as amazingly baroque with an Aizen - it was actually impossible for me shake off the intense and very verbal conduct of that thread when coming back to the Kasumi thread. You can see, too, in my Aizen tags where I picked up Kasumi-style conciseness. The byplay amuses me but I worry that I did an injustice to both partners. Anyway.

"You remind me of someone I once knew," He started, his eyes pointlessly searching the canopy of the bed - he sounded as though he were in pain, and if his rock-hard erection and trembling fingers were anything to go by, he might have been. He couldn't finish the thought aloud, though it might have gone something like I cannot tell which debts to repay first, nor your punishment for reminding me of them. Instead he opted for the comparatively safer, "When I brought you here, it was in memoriam, you might say."

...
He shifted onto his side, regarding his unlikely companion with a surprising mildness. "I admit defeat. Another round?" He cupped Kasumi's chin in his hand and brushed his thumb over his tender pink lips. "This time as we are, rather than as I was. My name is Seymour."

Hey Seymour, you think the Big Boss Guy routine is maybe falling through?

I had to ask IC for basically a reboot because there was no other way to get Seymour down from his tree. I hope it came off graciously.

Grinning defiantly, he touched the aching length that stood proudly between toned thighs for the first time, stroking experimentally from root to tip and passing the pad of a glancing finger across the inflamed head as he did so, giving a squeeze to enforce his next point.

"I'm Kasumi."

Oh my god, what a dick!

On Seymour.

Kasumi accepts a renegotiation of terms like a good sport: by tickling a hard-on. Would that all contracts were signed-off so.

Still, he got a ruthless grip on his imagination, and thereupon he very meaningfully held Kasumi's lilac eyes with his own. Tensing a very particular set of muscles, he caused his cock to hop and twitch on each syllable of "Pleased to meet you," as he spoke.
IRL ASIDE: the first time a man showed this to me it was in a hotel room in a big American city. I laughed so hard he had to put a pillow over my face so I wouldn't wake up the entire floor/block. The kind of thing one does not forget lightly.

entirely at odds with the random pollution of gouache and cursory soap that surrounded the student,
Kasumi running with his art-student-ness, and

if Seymour was a lion, Kasumi was most definitely a house cat, if a spunky one.

"I love your hair," he mentioned as an after-thought, the cool expansive of it brushing his forehead.

Two nice notes here: Kasumi once again graciously allowing me to have pride of place in name if not in action, and also, an unlooked-for compliment.

It was even more distracting to have his hair complimented. He rolled his eyes up to his forelock, a wry smile tugging his lips. "That's my penis in your hand. Are you talking about my hair only to unman me?"
Which I refused to be a sport about. Actually Kasumi's smart-ass mouth encouraged me to be more of a smart-ass myself than I would normally be IC. I hope the idea of Seymour turning cheap jokes isn't too unbearably OOC but fuckit, it was fun.

As if to assure him that there were no hard feelings - no other hard feelings - he let his hand glide along Kasumi's lean fresh flank nearly to his knee, and then swept up between his thighs quite patiently.

Seymour thought him distractingly beautiful - no, he amended to himself: in his smoothness and shapeliness, and in the instant warmth of his smile, he had the look of an idol.

Yet still, I'm struggling really hard with action in these tags, and I doubt anyone could miss it. I'm touching like an uke here! What the hell.

A big part of it was that I had no sense of Kasumi's body or personality or history aside from the crumbs I had ineffectively gleaned from tags. Check the timestamps on Kasumi's next tag and my reply, and then the next tag and reply. It took me two days to throw two tags, neither of which were more than a few sentences long.

What happened?

Basically I shuddered to a halt. I didn't have enough information to go on. Unlike Sephiroth, there aren't exactly 50,000 shrines to Kasumi all over the internet. Very few pictures, very slim canon backstory, and worse: I had very little to go on in terms of IRL experiences since I've never hopped in the sack with anyone like Kasumi. I had nothing. I was out. My ocean of smut ran dry.

So I sent a panicked drunk PM to Kasumi-mun, basically saying

I CANNOT GO ON IN THIS VOID.

Kasumi-mun, sugar-sweet and sunshiny as Kasumi himself, replied with "lol you are so cute here have a backstory." It was huge and extremely complete! Oh thank fuck. It took me a couple hours to digest it but by the end I felt much better about the character and the -

KANYE VOICE Imma let me finish but I just have to say
It is OF COURSE possible to write smut without having a profound grasp of the character you are smutting with. Of course you can just stick tab A in slot B and call it good, and there's nothing wrong with it. It was eminently possible for Kasumi and me to finish out this thread by writing straight up "my blue-haired guy touches your blond-haired guy" tags.

But it's not what I want and it's not what I like. If I was just in the market for porn/CR I wouldn't drop so many threads. What I really want is to fiddle with interesting minds in sexual territory. It's obvious that Kasumi-mun has an interesting mind, and I couldn't do credit to it or fiddle with it on the kind of personal and intricate terms that I favor while suffering from such punishing ignorance. I've mentioned before that 90% of what I do at TLH is pretext: this is the 10% that isn't.

I had to know. Fortunately Kasumi-mun cleared that hurdle with a few miles to spare.

He squeezed Kasumi's slinky, satiny, flexible body between his knees, smiling down in answer, although a kind of doubt played around the corners of his eyes. "Don't choke."

There was a keen edge of heartbreak mixed up in this uncomplicated pleasure. More than just those he had lost and left, he felt the absence of the sweetness of life as a young man: to have enthusiasm, to believe, to be safe, to be swept away by novelty, to run one's self to exhaustion under the soft sun, to sleep carelessly, to love artlessly.

Something in Kasumi's irrepressible brightness was forcing these old agonies to bubble up from their benthic oubliettes. It was poignant and odd, and yet, as he felt the student's soft breath on his most sensitive parts, he rather ruthlessly decided that there was no time like the present to start enjoying youth.



This is my first tag after the Vulcan Character Mind Meld. I'm still not fully on-board yet but I think I can see where I'm starting to pull my stuff together. This is Seymour drawing mentally into a position of solid ground.

benthic oubliettes. paging Bulwer-Lytton.

"Guess you really are natural," he said, more to amuse himself than Seymour when Kasumi's gaze lingered on downy curls.
Kasumi doesn't miss a beat, heading (ha HA) directly into making fun of Seymour's lovely blue ballhair. If the rest of that tag hadn't been so hot I would have just been annoyed. ^__________________^

Shocks of pleasure like distant lightning rolled through his stomach, and when he felt that clever pink tongue hit there - the nub of a particularly prominent vein on the underside of his cock head - he shuddered and moaned, his hips shifting into the delicious pressure.
Guys dicks have sensitive spots and less sensitive spots. You are doing dicks an injustice if you RP them like they are big undifferentiated hotspots. Good job me!

Kneading the muscles of a taut thigh, he reduced the pace of his bobbing head instead of taking the other route and finishing things quickly. It gave him the opportunity to lavish more attention on the prone spots of a virile body, sucking that much harder and slower, fingernails raking behind the supple curve of a knee. With the added help of a set rhythm, Kasumi timed a reverberating moan around the patterns his tongue traced over salty skin, taking a deep breath.
I haven't been delving into it too much but when this scene was developing, I was mostly thinking "shit this is a much better beej than I administered to Sephiroth." I was a little jealous and a little (okay a lot) turned on. I mean Seymour was turned on. Ha ha. Because it would be ridiculous otherwise.

It's a good beej because there's a ton of activitiy, specifically described (as we've noted about Kasumi before) and without trepidation of any kind. Straightforward, clear, and hot. Pretty much perfect! Man this couldn't get much better, could it! I got my character backstory, my killer beej, some nice plot developing, nothing can go wrong here!

Rising up after a few more lengthy seconds, he lapped soothingly and replaced his mouth with a hand, stroking with sensual intent. Coughing quietly, he cleared his throat and swallowed, returning the raw insides to their saliva-coated state and leaning on an elbow as he kissed his way back up a chest, nipping the tail of an intricate tattoo.

A little hoarse, he asked, "Are you okay with me taking you?"

*NEEDLE SLIDING OFF RECORD* OH WHAT THE SHI~



In the next part, we'll take a look at the loltastic fallout from this tag (which basically put my entire porn world on notice!)
elftaint: FRANK. N. FURTER. (Default)
I mean it happens on occasion that I get full of myself and am fairly sure that there is not a single dick on all of LJ that is bigger than mine, nor a dom so invincibly dommy. It happens. The next time it happens, my partners should just seize me by the nose and direct me towards this thread.

I got face-owned so bad here. I lost my hold on the momentum from pretty much post one and managed, by the end, to improve my position to only a little behind. I found this particularly tickly and hilarious sandwiched as it was between the fantastic Seymour x Sephiroth thread treated of in my last post mortem and the epic Seymour x Aizen that will get treated next. Both the Sephiroth and the Aizen scenes ought to have stuck me directly in "I am literally the shit, am I not?" territory, but then some little blond boy came along and utterly tweaked Seymour's nose.

Seme/Uke: haha wat. We won't be needing those terms here. There is a guy who thinks he is on top purely by force of habit (Seymour) and a guy who is actually calling all the shots (Kasumi.)

The setup: this was during the "Fall In Love With The First Person You See" event at The Love Hotel. I played pretty true to this event; I just don't do goggling hearts-in-eyes saddo anime twoo wub. Nope! I've gotta make everything difficult. What better way to start than with an ambiguous power play?

The light that spilled from the ornate filigree lamp was dim, of a dark gold hue, and cut all over with the shadows of patterned grating. The long silken hangings at all sides of the bed were covered in intricate patterns laid in metallic thread that glittered in a manner both luxurious and menacing in the low light. A heavy incense - aloeswood, and something that suggested peonies and bitter mints, the smoke so oily that it fell rather than rising - insinuated itself from a compartment in the lamp.

There was an indistinct slithery sound from outside of the enclosed bed. Then a huge hand burrowed into the bed hangings, and a man's head poked in. His long hair was damp and gathered at the back of his neck with a wide black ribbon, and he wore what looked like a thin bathrobe contrived of patterned and knotted silk. His smile was inconsequential, feather-light; his eyes slunk along the shapely resident of his bed with rather more heat and weight.

"Forgive me; it was more expedient this way, my love."



As a nearly unrelated aside, all of the replies I got to this thread had the exact same premise: Seymour had kidnapped character X, character X had no knowledge of of Seymour or his/her situation. When I wrote the tag I imagined there would probably be some wiseass who would show up yawning and rolling around in bed with sex eyes and singing "good morning, darling, last night was wonderful. Your ass is amazing. Walking alright today, I hope?"

I was really looking forward to that wiseass!

Kasumi came the closest, in any event.

Yawning widely as he awakened, Kasumi squinted at his immediate surroundings with a critical, if appreciative, eye.

"Makes a nice change from the same old crap," he murmured under his breath, rubbing his eyes and sitting up in the luxurious bed, taking note of the fact he was naked. Scratching his head, he debated leaving in the hopes of escaping whatever predicament he'd been thrown into but pulled his hand back from the draperies when he heard a noise, instead surprised to see a complete stranger insinuate himself through the glittering veils.

Arching a brow at the damp-haired man's tone, Kasumi smiled up at him wryly.

"Do I at least get to know your name?"





Smug little prick! I should have known then that I was going to run into trouble. Kasumi was confident and unconcerned without being explanatory. I was tickled and despite having absolutely no knowledge of the character, I jumped in.

"There are already so few mysteries between us, and you wish to spoil those that remain?" He tsked and eased onto the bed in a sprawl of splendid unconcern.
TL;DR no you are not the shit;it is I who am the shit.

Kasumi was torn between laughing and edging away, settling for bringing up a knee under the blankets to rest an elbow on, chinning a subsequent hand.

"Uh huh. So few, you say?"

First, he had to figure out whether he was dealing with a delusional maniac or being mocked before he offended the guy by attempting to leave; he was a little less built than his new bed-mate, but nothing so slender that he doubted being able to put up a damn good fight if things took a nasty turn. Fervently, he hoped they wouldn't.

"Sorry, love, but it seems my memory's not what it used to be. Do you know my name?"





Pfft make yourself at home, why don't you. I was OOC enchanted and irritated at this flip lad who had turned up in my Bed Of Being In Control. I do enjoy being annoyed very much. :)

Kasumi's narration indicates that the field is open either for naked (ha HA) trickery or pure madness. I also liked the detail of Kasumi's physical smaller-ness - size differences are one of my little predilections - and yet his promise of being full of fight. I was at this point reading the situation as "feisty uke who secretly wants to be brought to heel." What I failed to read was what was actually being said: "you can have fun with me. The only thing you can have with me is fun. Try anything else and I'll beat your ass/leave."

I enjoy the brinksmanship of getting as close to "no" as possible, and I enjoy manipulating and coercing people into saying "yes" to things that they ordinarily wouldn't. Like flower-arranging, it's an art of bending their wills into more beautiful shapes. Coming from this kind of mindset, it was actually very difficult for me to understand where Kasumi was coming from a lot of the time. I kept trying to impose a D/s mentality onto a totally not even a little bit D/s scene.

You can see me struggling with this!

Seymour's eyes fluttered shut at the imprecation "love." Though he quickly regained his aplomb, and rolled his fingers idly on his free hand.

Certainly he was not about to relieve anyone's ignorance.

"A name is purposeless, an accident of birth, a whim of one's progenitors. I already know what to call you, love."

He reached out in a plainly familiar manner to smooth a stray lock of Kasumi's soft golden hair back in place.





TL;DR oh I promise I'll be gentle when I break you, child.

Which met with :

He watched Seymour as he brushed aside rumpled waves of hair, clearing his throat.

"Kind of helps at the bank when you need a loan, though."

Peering around the shrouded bed, his attention lingered on the lamp and cascading plumes of bittersweet smoke, a violet gaze gradually shifting back to the enigmatic (and slightly disconcerting) person sprawled at his feet, close enough to touch.

Kasumi did, returning the favour as he gently flicked aside cerulean coiffure, freeing up dark eyes.

"If you don't tell me, I'll guess."







TL;DR what the fuck are you talking about, oyaji.

I am laughing at it even when writing this. But at the time, between my confusion, my lack of grasp of Kasumi's canon, and my reluctance to turn on the Hard Beatdown Top on a scene in which that approach seemed subtly incorrect - I was foundering, and having a harder and harder time replying.

"I don't think I'll let you have me ruin your image by painting you wrong. How about you tell me if the door's locked and I'll decide if I want to kiss you, whether it is or isn't, based on first impressions?" He smiled mildly. "You'll know if this whole seduction scene is paying off."
To make things worse, Kasumi was growing more forward all the time, and to make things double-worse, I was beginning to be more entertained by his cheek than by the prospect of breaking him. My motivation was all fucked up!

"Let us say, for the sake of argument, that the door is in the state that is most likely to incline you to kiss me."
Was Seymour's reply. I mean, if nothing else works, maybe.... smut?

"That's cheating," he softly snorted, leaning against him with a widening grin as his slid his hand up a throat, thumb skimming a temple to tilt that handsome face. "And a good answer."
Sure, says Kasumi. Let's smut. And by "let's" I mean "I'll just go ahead and treat you like the beautiful lady you are, Seymour."

Then Kasumi-mun and I got in a kissy-icon war, which I promptly lost, even as some very luscious kissing started to develop.

"Nice to meet you," he breathed hotly, never breaking the slick glide of lips and tongue.
OMG so much delightful panting boy sunshine in so few words. Wonderful. Note the timestamps - Kasumi has no trouble tossing out a tag within 20-30 minutes, whereas I took longer and longer and longer while my internal MUST GET A LEG OVER BOY engine started grinding to a halt.

His free hand covered the wrist that lay at the opening of his robe, and he dragged it down to the knot of his sash. Here.
"I'm the boss."

Shallows breaths puffed free as Kasumi slumped more comfortably against Seymour's side, licking his way down the knolls of a collar-bone while parting the folds of the bathrobe ... just enough.
"Not really, no."

I Should Clarify

In general when people try this shit with me it is my specific and deliberate delight to break them of their mistaken notions. I genuinely don't enjoy Not Being In Control, I suck at receiving action rather than leading it or at least giving as good as I get, and I think it's incredibly pushy and rude when people try to get my character to back down and Be A Good Boy.

It was something specifically about the happy, eager, direct, and very sexy Kasumi in prose that disarmed Seymour's defenses. He was constantly in a position where he had to recognize that saying "no" meant saying no to something he wanted anyway (delicious sexy times with agile young blond). It never even occurred to him to really put his foot down, even if this wasn't going to happen on his terms. I think it was this bizarre tension that pushed me to install some backstory on the smut: recontextualized, Seymour's reaction to Kasumi was less one of "whoa sex" and more of "whoa a fragment of a lost world." Which was a more acceptable basis on which to let go of his, as Kasumi-mun put it in a PM, RAR MUST SEME nature.

When Seymour was eighteen, his exile was broken, and he was brought to the capital to be ordained and admitted as a priest. He was overwhelmed for two weeks after he arrived in the city; then, he fell in with a group of rather free artist types. They were light, buoyant, careless, dramatic in their moods, and excessive in their tastes. Within a month he had been presented at temple and could no longer make excuses; as it would have been too difficult otherwise, he left without saying goodbye, and he never saw any of them again.

Kasumi might have been one of them. The realization made him feel dizzy and trifled-with. Whether it was terror or liberation to be touched so, he could not say.

This backstory slices out just four weeks from otherwise canon events and inserts a troupe of scintillating art students thereupon. It's reasonably plausible and makes short work of Seymour's mixed feelings.

It was a random and serendipitous decision. At the time I wrote that, I had no idea that Kasumi was himself an art student. The resonance between this backstory and Kasumi's backstory wound up being very productive, and it would continue to lend a bittersweet leitmotif to the CR throughout.

In the next part, we'll see what happens when I basically just break down and scream I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER to Kasumi-mun! Also, blowjobs done right.

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Elf, the horrible degenerate

September 2010

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