Karl Urban and Dougray Scott (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dougray): back in London
2015-03-23 14:07karl_urban
karl_urbanplayers only. backdated to April 2014, after Karl and Dougray return from Vancouver and are welcomed thoroughly by Harry.
Groaning under his breath, Dougray stretches out on the couch in an attempt to get more comfortable. It feels so damn good to be back in London with both his sirs, at home in their loft in the Citadel warehouse. And although Harry didn't say a whole lot about it - he smiled, mostly - Dougray knows he missed the hell out of both of them. Some time alone with Karl in the shower last night, and now the streaks of come drying on Dougray's sore ass... Yeah, he thinks, grinning a little. He knows Harry missed them.
Returning from his morning run, Karl lets himself into the loft. Quietly. Still unsure of Harry's - and therefore Dougray's - schedule. He grabs the hand towel he left sitting on the table by the front door and starts drying his hair, knowing he'll catch shit if he drips sweat all across the floors. Only then noticing Dougray watching him from over the couch back. He smiles. "Morning. Harry up too?"
"Mmm. Up," Dougray agrees, grinning at his other sir. "...And up, and plotting, perhaps scheming..." Bone-deep contentment sinks through his body, and his smile softens. "I think he missed us much more than he said he did."
Karl laughs, swiping the towel over the rest of him. "Yeah, that's Harry alright. You still in commission?" he asks with another grin, coming around the couch to give Dougray a kiss, his cock giving a deliberate jerk at the sight of their boy looking so debauched.
Dougray draws the kiss out, lingering over Karl's luscious mouth for a moment. "I was ordered to rest. I was not ordered to take a break." He grins, his eyes alight.
"Is that right?" Karl murmurs, running a hand down Dougray's back, fingers teasing along his spine.
Shivering in response, Dougray clutches his pillow tighter. "Yes, Sir," he whispers, feeling a slow liquid slide of anticipation in his gut.
"Harry made a right mess of you," Karl continues, one finger dragged through a still-wet line of come on Dougray's ass.
"Yes, Sir," Dougray says again. The muscles in his ass contract for an instant, rushing lust through his bloodstream. "His actions speak loudly," he says with a soft huff of breath. "I'm very honored."
That same finger draws a line down Dougray's cleft, rubbing slowly over his hole, Karl watching their boy's face, intent on his response.
A quick indrawn breath, nearly a hiss of pain, but Dougray focuses himself in an instant and steadies his breathing. Not wanting to dissuade Karl from... anything at all.
Karl spreads Dougray's cheeks, inspecting his hole, the flesh pink and swollen. He shifts back and leans down, dragging his tongue over the same spot, the taste of both his lovers making his cock throb.
Dougray groans and forces himself to stay still. "Thank you, Sir," he rasps once he again has control of his words. "That feels so good."
"Yeah?" Karl grins and does it again, licking a little deeper this time.
This time Dougray outright whimpers, a pitiful sound that he just can't help -- because he is fucking melting into the sofa. But the overwhelming pleasure is edged with a thin line of terror. Of how much more torment his sir is about to subject him to.
That whimper. Christ. Karl's cock throbs fiercely and he pushes his tongue in as far as he can go, chasing after the taste of Harry.
"Oh god! Karl-- I mean, Sir, I'm sorry, Sir--" Dougray's body convulses with the cost of self-control. After last night, after this morning, and then this morning again, and now this... His cock swells spike-hard, mashed beneath him against the sofa. He begins to desperately rock his hips.
Karl growls and tongue-fucks Dougray even harder, determined to shatter that self-control.
"I can't-- Please please your boy can't--" And abruptly it's too much. Dougray's climax explodes through him. His seed spills, immediately smearing both the couch and his skin. And shame washes through him, his body flashing both hot and cold, twisted between pleasure and misery.
But Karl's not done yet. He kneels up behind Dougray, his shorts pushed down and his cock freed, hands wrapped around the front of Dougray's thighs, pulling him up so he can push inside him.
Dougray groans, still feeling wretched but torn now with the intense gratification and pure pride he feels that this man - this man - considers him his own. His own boy to take and use, however he wants.
Seating himself fully inside Dougray's body, Karl takes a moment to savour the intense heat before he starts to move, pulling out to the very tip before plunging back in. Again and again.
It hurts. Dear god, it hurts, Dougray's flesh already so abraded and overworked and abused in the past couple days. But he wouldn't protest if his life depended on it. He pushes up to brace on his elbows so that he can offer his Sir more, gritting his teeth and gasping at the deep thrusts.
Clasping the back of Dougray's neck, Karl thrusts in even harder, showing no mercy as he drives towards his own completion, hips snapping suddenly, harshly, as his cock spurts, flooding his boy's ass, his vision going white with the force of his pleasure.
Dougray cries out at the searing rush deep inside him. And he struggles to maintain his position, sweat beading on corded muscles. Fuck. Fuck.
Eyes locked on Dougray's hole, hands still gripping tight, Karl steadily slows his thrusts, intent on savouring these last few minutes inside his boy. "So. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Dougray winces. "I'm sorry, Sir," he says quietly. "Sorry I didn't show better self-control for you."
"And do you think that's good enough?" Karl asks. "That you're sorry."
"It's not my decision, Sir," Dougray replies, never quite certain how to navigate murky waters such as these. "Please tell me whether I have earned punishment from you, Sir."
"You have," Karl nods, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Dougray and pull him up and in against his chest. "But given all the torment your sirs have put you through, it'll be a small one."
"Thank you, Sir." Dougray's voice is small, but he collapses into the embrace with relief. "It's good to be home again."
"Glad you feel that way," Karl murmurs, smiling, kissing Dougray's shoulder. "Think you can find a steel cock cage upstairs - I don't want one of those plastic things - and a nice thick plug?"
Dougray's breath catches - steel, not plastic - and he nods. "Yes, Sir," he says quietly, shooting Karl a mischievous glance from beneath his eyelashes. "I'm certain I can manage that."
"Then go do it," Karl says, easing out from Dougray's body. "And don't clean up."
"Yes, Sir." Don't clean up, right. Soon his skin might be so stiff with dried semen that he'll have a tough job walking... He smiles at the fanciful image and quickly climbs the stairs to the loft. In less than a minute he's back down and kneeling at Karl's feet, presenting on his upturned palms a steel cock cage and a weighty cherry red anal plug.
Karl grins, sitting on the couch, his clothes righted although he badly needs a shower. "Let's take care of this first," he says, taking the cage from Dougray and locking it around his cock and balls. "Okay?" A nod from Dougray and he takes the plug, motioning for him to turn around, the tip teased against his hole. "You're going to stay by my side for the rest of the day," he says. "Anything you need to do, including using the washroom, you'll need permission and you won't be taking the cage off. Anywhere I go, you'll follow, keeping at my feet. Got it?"
"Yes, Sir," Dougray murmurs from his spot on the floor. "May I kneel up? Or would you prefer I stay on my knees and elbows?"
"You can kneel up," Karl says, sliding the plug home, the base firmly seated.
Dougray gasps slightly at the sudden weight inside him, the thick stretch of his muscles. "Yes, Sir," he mumbles, not fully aware of what he's saying but knowing that something is generally considered appropriate at this stage. He rubs his cheek briefly against Karl's knee. "Thank you, Sir."
Karl nods, cupping the back of Dougray's neck for a moment. "Now I need a shower, so you'll come upstairs with me. You can stand for the stairs but I want you crawling otherwise." He yawns, stretching out his back and rises to his feet.
"Yes, Sir," Dougray says again, dropping down to his elbows. Kneeling, crawling... these aren't new tasks to be asked of him. But remaining so deeply in role once his sirs are up and about their usual activities? Those occasions have been few and far between, and have usually involved a chain leash. He tries to draw his focus entirely inward, to become fully and only Karl's boy.
Karl leads the way upstairs, keeping an eye on Dougray. He drops his clothes into the hamper and goes into the bathroom, running the shower nice and hot, his fingers ruffled through Dougray's hair before he steps under the spray, the shower door closed behind him.
Dougray kneels up on the tile floor and drops his gaze. After an awkward moment of trying to figure out where to put his hands, he rests them on his thighs. And he listens to the shower run, not allowing himself to lift his head and check out the gorgeous sight of Karl so gloriously naked.
Karl takes his time, not rushing his shower one bit just because their boy's waiting outside. But finally he steps out, reaching for a thick gray towel and drying himself from head to toe. He goes back into the bedroom and pulls on a pair of old shredded jeans and a light blue shirt which he leaves untucked and mostly unbuttoned.
Obediently, Dougray crawls just a couple steps behind. He holds his silence while Karl finishes dressing, then softly asks, "Sir? May I ask you for something?"
"Yeah, of course," Karl says, contemplating shoes or even socks for a second before he defaults to bare feet.
Dougray can feel his cheeks heating to incineration temperature, but it was already a couple of hours before Karl got home, and since that time... "Please, Sir. May I take a piss?"
"Go ahead. Quickly though," Karl says, biting back a smile. "I'm hungry."
Crawling into the bathroom, Dougray reflects that he's lucky his sir didn't order him not to stand while pissing -- it's something. He gets to his feet and relieves himself with a sigh, and while washing up wonders idly whether he's going to need more lube in his ass or whether the plug will take care of that. Not that it's his call, regardless. He crawls back out and waits at Karl's knee.
Back downstairs, Karl opens the fridge and starts pulling out food. "Are you hungry?" he asks Dougray, smiling at his boy on his knees, naked, caged and plugged. Fuck.
"...Ahh?" Am I what? Dougray wonders, too distracted for a moment to process. Oh. "No. No thank you, Sir." He licks his lips. "But I'm thirsty, Sir, please."
Karl sets the eggs and the mushrooms on the counter and gets Dougray a glass of water, handing it to him on the floor.
"Thank you, Sir," Dougray says gratefully, taking the glass in his hand and drinking a large gulp. When Karl shifts, Dougray shifts with him, trying to obey his orders but not be physically too close.
"You're welcome," Karl replies, smiling, watching Dougray as he whisks four eggs, grates a couple ounces of cheese and chops up the mushrooms and some onion to go with it.
Dougray drinks about half the glassful, then reaches to set the glass back on the counter. He has no idea what he's supposed to be doing right now. He likes it, sure, likes the idea of being simply an extension of his sir, it's just that he's not certain what to do in order to fulfill that role to the best of abilities. So, for the moment, he straightens his spine and lays his hands on his thighs, chin up but gaze down, trying to let his mind go blank. Until Karl tells him otherwise, anyway.
Karl makes up a quick omelette, stuffed with cheese and veggies, grabs a glass of milk from the fridge and heads back to the couch, using the napkin he brought with him to clean it up from earlier. He settles at one end, feet thrown up on the ottoman in front and clicks through the channels until he finds a repeat of Law & Order: UK. In between bites, he rests his hand on the back of Dougray's neck, fingers rubbing idly over his collar.
And god, there it is: the simplest of caresses locks things into crystal-clearness in Dougray's mind. A soft happy noise slips from his lips and he shuts his eyes, beatifically content to focus on his sir's touch -- that casual reminder of his absolute ownership.
[feedback welcome. comments screened]
Groaning under his breath, Dougray stretches out on the couch in an attempt to get more comfortable. It feels so damn good to be back in London with both his sirs, at home in their loft in the Citadel warehouse. And although Harry didn't say a whole lot about it - he smiled, mostly - Dougray knows he missed the hell out of both of them. Some time alone with Karl in the shower last night, and now the streaks of come drying on Dougray's sore ass... Yeah, he thinks, grinning a little. He knows Harry missed them.
Returning from his morning run, Karl lets himself into the loft. Quietly. Still unsure of Harry's - and therefore Dougray's - schedule. He grabs the hand towel he left sitting on the table by the front door and starts drying his hair, knowing he'll catch shit if he drips sweat all across the floors. Only then noticing Dougray watching him from over the couch back. He smiles. "Morning. Harry up too?"
"Mmm. Up," Dougray agrees, grinning at his other sir. "...And up, and plotting, perhaps scheming..." Bone-deep contentment sinks through his body, and his smile softens. "I think he missed us much more than he said he did."
Karl laughs, swiping the towel over the rest of him. "Yeah, that's Harry alright. You still in commission?" he asks with another grin, coming around the couch to give Dougray a kiss, his cock giving a deliberate jerk at the sight of their boy looking so debauched.
Dougray draws the kiss out, lingering over Karl's luscious mouth for a moment. "I was ordered to rest. I was not ordered to take a break." He grins, his eyes alight.
"Is that right?" Karl murmurs, running a hand down Dougray's back, fingers teasing along his spine.
Shivering in response, Dougray clutches his pillow tighter. "Yes, Sir," he whispers, feeling a slow liquid slide of anticipation in his gut.
"Harry made a right mess of you," Karl continues, one finger dragged through a still-wet line of come on Dougray's ass.
"Yes, Sir," Dougray says again. The muscles in his ass contract for an instant, rushing lust through his bloodstream. "His actions speak loudly," he says with a soft huff of breath. "I'm very honored."
That same finger draws a line down Dougray's cleft, rubbing slowly over his hole, Karl watching their boy's face, intent on his response.
A quick indrawn breath, nearly a hiss of pain, but Dougray focuses himself in an instant and steadies his breathing. Not wanting to dissuade Karl from... anything at all.
Karl spreads Dougray's cheeks, inspecting his hole, the flesh pink and swollen. He shifts back and leans down, dragging his tongue over the same spot, the taste of both his lovers making his cock throb.
Dougray groans and forces himself to stay still. "Thank you, Sir," he rasps once he again has control of his words. "That feels so good."
"Yeah?" Karl grins and does it again, licking a little deeper this time.
This time Dougray outright whimpers, a pitiful sound that he just can't help -- because he is fucking melting into the sofa. But the overwhelming pleasure is edged with a thin line of terror. Of how much more torment his sir is about to subject him to.
That whimper. Christ. Karl's cock throbs fiercely and he pushes his tongue in as far as he can go, chasing after the taste of Harry.
"Oh god! Karl-- I mean, Sir, I'm sorry, Sir--" Dougray's body convulses with the cost of self-control. After last night, after this morning, and then this morning again, and now this... His cock swells spike-hard, mashed beneath him against the sofa. He begins to desperately rock his hips.
Karl growls and tongue-fucks Dougray even harder, determined to shatter that self-control.
"I can't-- Please please your boy can't--" And abruptly it's too much. Dougray's climax explodes through him. His seed spills, immediately smearing both the couch and his skin. And shame washes through him, his body flashing both hot and cold, twisted between pleasure and misery.
But Karl's not done yet. He kneels up behind Dougray, his shorts pushed down and his cock freed, hands wrapped around the front of Dougray's thighs, pulling him up so he can push inside him.
Dougray groans, still feeling wretched but torn now with the intense gratification and pure pride he feels that this man - this man - considers him his own. His own boy to take and use, however he wants.
Seating himself fully inside Dougray's body, Karl takes a moment to savour the intense heat before he starts to move, pulling out to the very tip before plunging back in. Again and again.
It hurts. Dear god, it hurts, Dougray's flesh already so abraded and overworked and abused in the past couple days. But he wouldn't protest if his life depended on it. He pushes up to brace on his elbows so that he can offer his Sir more, gritting his teeth and gasping at the deep thrusts.
Clasping the back of Dougray's neck, Karl thrusts in even harder, showing no mercy as he drives towards his own completion, hips snapping suddenly, harshly, as his cock spurts, flooding his boy's ass, his vision going white with the force of his pleasure.
Dougray cries out at the searing rush deep inside him. And he struggles to maintain his position, sweat beading on corded muscles. Fuck. Fuck.
Eyes locked on Dougray's hole, hands still gripping tight, Karl steadily slows his thrusts, intent on savouring these last few minutes inside his boy. "So. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Dougray winces. "I'm sorry, Sir," he says quietly. "Sorry I didn't show better self-control for you."
"And do you think that's good enough?" Karl asks. "That you're sorry."
"It's not my decision, Sir," Dougray replies, never quite certain how to navigate murky waters such as these. "Please tell me whether I have earned punishment from you, Sir."
"You have," Karl nods, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Dougray and pull him up and in against his chest. "But given all the torment your sirs have put you through, it'll be a small one."
"Thank you, Sir." Dougray's voice is small, but he collapses into the embrace with relief. "It's good to be home again."
"Glad you feel that way," Karl murmurs, smiling, kissing Dougray's shoulder. "Think you can find a steel cock cage upstairs - I don't want one of those plastic things - and a nice thick plug?"
Dougray's breath catches - steel, not plastic - and he nods. "Yes, Sir," he says quietly, shooting Karl a mischievous glance from beneath his eyelashes. "I'm certain I can manage that."
"Then go do it," Karl says, easing out from Dougray's body. "And don't clean up."
"Yes, Sir." Don't clean up, right. Soon his skin might be so stiff with dried semen that he'll have a tough job walking... He smiles at the fanciful image and quickly climbs the stairs to the loft. In less than a minute he's back down and kneeling at Karl's feet, presenting on his upturned palms a steel cock cage and a weighty cherry red anal plug.
Karl grins, sitting on the couch, his clothes righted although he badly needs a shower. "Let's take care of this first," he says, taking the cage from Dougray and locking it around his cock and balls. "Okay?" A nod from Dougray and he takes the plug, motioning for him to turn around, the tip teased against his hole. "You're going to stay by my side for the rest of the day," he says. "Anything you need to do, including using the washroom, you'll need permission and you won't be taking the cage off. Anywhere I go, you'll follow, keeping at my feet. Got it?"
"Yes, Sir," Dougray murmurs from his spot on the floor. "May I kneel up? Or would you prefer I stay on my knees and elbows?"
"You can kneel up," Karl says, sliding the plug home, the base firmly seated.
Dougray gasps slightly at the sudden weight inside him, the thick stretch of his muscles. "Yes, Sir," he mumbles, not fully aware of what he's saying but knowing that something is generally considered appropriate at this stage. He rubs his cheek briefly against Karl's knee. "Thank you, Sir."
Karl nods, cupping the back of Dougray's neck for a moment. "Now I need a shower, so you'll come upstairs with me. You can stand for the stairs but I want you crawling otherwise." He yawns, stretching out his back and rises to his feet.
"Yes, Sir," Dougray says again, dropping down to his elbows. Kneeling, crawling... these aren't new tasks to be asked of him. But remaining so deeply in role once his sirs are up and about their usual activities? Those occasions have been few and far between, and have usually involved a chain leash. He tries to draw his focus entirely inward, to become fully and only Karl's boy.
Karl leads the way upstairs, keeping an eye on Dougray. He drops his clothes into the hamper and goes into the bathroom, running the shower nice and hot, his fingers ruffled through Dougray's hair before he steps under the spray, the shower door closed behind him.
Dougray kneels up on the tile floor and drops his gaze. After an awkward moment of trying to figure out where to put his hands, he rests them on his thighs. And he listens to the shower run, not allowing himself to lift his head and check out the gorgeous sight of Karl so gloriously naked.
Karl takes his time, not rushing his shower one bit just because their boy's waiting outside. But finally he steps out, reaching for a thick gray towel and drying himself from head to toe. He goes back into the bedroom and pulls on a pair of old shredded jeans and a light blue shirt which he leaves untucked and mostly unbuttoned.
Obediently, Dougray crawls just a couple steps behind. He holds his silence while Karl finishes dressing, then softly asks, "Sir? May I ask you for something?"
"Yeah, of course," Karl says, contemplating shoes or even socks for a second before he defaults to bare feet.
Dougray can feel his cheeks heating to incineration temperature, but it was already a couple of hours before Karl got home, and since that time... "Please, Sir. May I take a piss?"
"Go ahead. Quickly though," Karl says, biting back a smile. "I'm hungry."
Crawling into the bathroom, Dougray reflects that he's lucky his sir didn't order him not to stand while pissing -- it's something. He gets to his feet and relieves himself with a sigh, and while washing up wonders idly whether he's going to need more lube in his ass or whether the plug will take care of that. Not that it's his call, regardless. He crawls back out and waits at Karl's knee.
Back downstairs, Karl opens the fridge and starts pulling out food. "Are you hungry?" he asks Dougray, smiling at his boy on his knees, naked, caged and plugged. Fuck.
"...Ahh?" Am I what? Dougray wonders, too distracted for a moment to process. Oh. "No. No thank you, Sir." He licks his lips. "But I'm thirsty, Sir, please."
Karl sets the eggs and the mushrooms on the counter and gets Dougray a glass of water, handing it to him on the floor.
"Thank you, Sir," Dougray says gratefully, taking the glass in his hand and drinking a large gulp. When Karl shifts, Dougray shifts with him, trying to obey his orders but not be physically too close.
"You're welcome," Karl replies, smiling, watching Dougray as he whisks four eggs, grates a couple ounces of cheese and chops up the mushrooms and some onion to go with it.
Dougray drinks about half the glassful, then reaches to set the glass back on the counter. He has no idea what he's supposed to be doing right now. He likes it, sure, likes the idea of being simply an extension of his sir, it's just that he's not certain what to do in order to fulfill that role to the best of abilities. So, for the moment, he straightens his spine and lays his hands on his thighs, chin up but gaze down, trying to let his mind go blank. Until Karl tells him otherwise, anyway.
Karl makes up a quick omelette, stuffed with cheese and veggies, grabs a glass of milk from the fridge and heads back to the couch, using the napkin he brought with him to clean it up from earlier. He settles at one end, feet thrown up on the ottoman in front and clicks through the channels until he finds a repeat of Law & Order: UK. In between bites, he rests his hand on the back of Dougray's neck, fingers rubbing idly over his collar.
And god, there it is: the simplest of caresses locks things into crystal-clearness in Dougray's mind. A soft happy noise slips from his lips and he shuts his eyes, beatifically content to focus on his sir's touch -- that casual reminder of his absolute ownership.
[feedback welcome. comments screened]
