Tuesday's Theme: Toys

[telesilla.livejournal.com]

Today's Theme is: TOYS

Who doesn't love toys? From something simple like a pair of clothespins or a shoelace used as a makeshift cock ring to sleek silicone butt plugs and glass dildos to complicated fucking machines and everything in between, bring out your toy prompts!

Please be kind to the code monkeys and remember the posting format: Your Fandom or Crossover, Your Pairing, "Your prompt". One prompt per comment.

Examples:

SGA, John/Rodney, "I built it; it can go all night if I want it to"

Lotrips, Viggo/Bean, "you want to fuck me with what?"


Yes, more than one writer can write to a prompt and yes, you may write something for your own prompt, if you like.

And remember, if nothing here grabs your fancy, you can always head over to the Lonely Prompt List and give a lonely prompt a home.

Comments

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, paddle

[nbaeker.livejournal.com]

Merlin just knows he's in for it this time.

Arthur had only asked him to do one thing today, and he's botched it.

Granted it wasn't entirely his fault. Who would have foreseen that the blacksmiths would run out of iron?

Arthur is making him nervous, too. What with not saying anything for the long moments after Merlin stammers out an explanation.

"Come here," he says at last, and Merlin inches forward.

"Turn around and drop your breeches," comes the command, and Merlin blinks at Arthur for a moment. An eyebrow is raised and so he does as he's told. When Arthur tells him to bend over and put his hands on the table, he does that too.

He hears the slap of the paddle on his arse before he feels it, and then there's a blooming of pain, and he cries out.

"One," Arthur says, and then repeats the motion.

Ten strokes later, Merlin is torn between loving the heat that's warming his skin and feeling as though he ought to rush to Gaius and beg for some way to get out of this manservant thing.

And then he feels the oil; Arthur's coated his fingers with it, and ohlordohlord, his finger is circling Merlin's arsehole.

Merlin could curse his own body for yearning towards the touch, and after a few moments of preparation Arthur's working a finger inside him.

Then another. And another.

"Please, Arthur," Merlin begs, and the fingers are withdrawn.

As Arthur enters him, his knees go weak, and Merlin is left clutching the table with all his might.

It doesn't take long before they've spent themselves, and Arthur arches an eyebrow at Merlin.

"Now you've seen both the punishment for not pleasing me, and reward for success. Clean this mess up."

With a sharp turn on his heel, the prince is gone.

Merlin eyes the paddle, and can't quite decide whether he wants to fail or succeed.