RP post snippets for Calix

Calix notes the return of the bar and cant.

The first time the Lord Volkor has returned it. He narrows his eyes only in recognition, accepting that this was to be the way of things.

For at least some time. Calix, slowing to pause as he watches the whip be presented, maintains a look both insulted and reluctantly obedient to its motion.

He understands what Kitty asked and simply sighs through his nose as he approaches.

It pleases me more to punish-

Calix’s lip curls to show his teeth as he immediately looks down between them with an expression disgusted. His body tensing instantly under the grip that guides him to his knee again. Oh, but—

It didn’t seem to be enough for one knee. He looks up when the pressure didn’t cease and fights his hold for tense moments.

“You— Nnh…”

He twists his shoulders away as if burned by the touch, lowering to both knees and… Still further? The boot urges him lower still where Kitty did not follow with his hands. Maintaining a simple dominant distance. It turned Calix’s gut as he flumps to his side, uncertainty writ plain on his brow. Arm tremoring in effort not to show discomfort under the strain of the lord’s heel.

The pressure increases for a moment and Calix’s expression became momentarily intent, enraged. He opens his mouth to protest but before he’s able-

Undress yourself.

The impact of the command was plain to see in the way he lurches momentarily forward, as if he’d just lost his footing for a second over a precipice. The way his lips hung parted as thoughts ashed in a moment’s blaze of fury before the fire could leap from his teeth. It was clear, Calix had no response. Not hardly.

He had heard him correctly, he knows this. And couldn’t look up as his brows begin to harden under a look intensified. Toward the grass between the lord’s boots and beyond him.

To undress was cruelest vulnerability. A baring of one’s flesh and bone in a world most keen for meat. Precisely, he knew, why Volkor wished for him this ‘punishment’.

Calix raises carefully to his knees and, with a daring glance upward, reaches for the pin and clasp of his gravepelt. With careful fingers, he tugs the heavy pin loose, catching the ornate fang-mark in his other palm as the cloak falls heavily from his shoulders. The weight evident in the way it landed and the blackened spines clattered against each other in a thick protest to be discarded so.

Calix, without entirely showing his teeth, flares his nostrils and tightens his upper lip in disdain as he sets the clasp upon it.

“Does this please you, lord-alpha.” He holds any look given, voice low and dripping with contempt.

Calix’s climax tore through him, eyes rolling to rest sternly upon Volkor with conflict writ clear.

No, no you don’t..!

The other lord would feel him struggle in rebellion, neck tight under the increasing pressure of his choking grip- a free hand clapping over Volkor’s wrist in growing desperation to be free.

Like a deal with a daemon, this was. The other’s voice rang in his ears like muffling blood as his body continued to betray him. He, almost deaf to Volkor’s conspiratorial muttering, whimpers in involuntary defeat as he struggles a little more desperately. A little more feverishly.

Calix finally pounds his forearm to the Lord’s chest with a baring of his teeth when he feels him finish inside.

Oh, wretched. How dare…

A shame that only we-

Calix, under Volkor’s loosening grip, gasps loudly- turning his hand to claw at the man’s shoulder in open fury.

That the lord-bitch von Fellner simply could not help himself-

Calix’s panting was dry, strained. His eyes fixate with more clarity and he hisses before allowing moments of silence to pass in warning.

You’re a messy bitch, aren’t you, my Lord.

His teeth snap shut as his expression tightens around them. If looks could kill, he’s sure Volkor should be alight in flames about now. Yet, he hates himself for searching and being unable to find words for him.

His eyes flicker to the open window behind him and wonders.

You should dress before-

He feels Volkor holding him down and- he shudders in open discomfort for what he’s done. Was it worth it? His clarity of mind, ironically, allows him to wonder. Rolling his neck to glance down the hall, he allows the moment between them if only to catch his breath.

“Pathetic. Out with you.”

He finally says, leveraging his shoulder with the stone to finally shove the lord away. He reaches between his own legs with fingers curled within the same elegant movement of elbowing Lord Volkor from his path to the window. He whips his hand into the mist and collects more as his free hand gathers the first of his buttons. He tosses a narrow look toward his vile companion, gesturing with his chin down the corridor.

“You’ve served your purpose, now go.”