LMOM: Collared- Part 2
May. 2nd, 2010 12:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katekintailTitle: Collared Part 2
Author: KateKintail
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Kinks: mentions Rentboy!Remus, breath play, sounding, public sex
Pairing: past Remus/Sirius, mentions Remus/OMCs
Disclaimer: This story is NOT of JKR’s making. I make no money from this at all. I also do not condone the keeping of werewolves as unwilling sex slave love pets.
Summary: Unable to make ends meet after the war, Remus submits himself to the Ministry’s program for werewolves.
Word Count: 1,213
Notes: Written for pervy_werewolf’s Lusty Month of May 2010
Remus dragged his old trunk into the center of his tiny flat and threw the top back. One of the buckles was loose and made the top fall back at an angle, dangling, jangling, and Remus stood a moment, staring at it. He dreaded going into the werewolf program, but what choice did he have, really? He had tried everything he could think of to make money, first selling his talents, then his wares, and finally his body. Not even the combination of all three had been enough to keep him from what seemed to be his fate.
And it wasn’t as though he had anyone left to fight for him or help him out. James, Lily, and Peter had all been killed. And Sirius, well, Sirius was worse than dead after just a few months in Azkaban.
Sirius. Remus sunk to the floor on his knees with a heavy sigh. Well, that relationship had certainly been a mistake and a half. They had shared a home and a bed and all the while he’d been working against the Order of the Phoenix for Lord Voldemort behind Remus’ back. And it wasn’t as though Remus hadn’t suspected he was the spy. The problem was, Remus had suspected everyone of being the spy. He had even suspected himself once or twice, wondering if maybe he had escaped in wolf form and passed some sort of information to the werewolves working for Voldemort.
He would almost have preferred it to have been him. But, instead, it had been Sirius Black. Sirius Black who loved his friends with an unrivaled passion. Sirius Black who had offered Remus a place to live when money was tight and no one would hire him. Sirius Black who could made him come practically by looking in his general direction.
Now Remus realized there had been both too many and too few of those moments. His time on the streets had taught him how different loveless sex could be from what he’d enjoyed with Sirius. Remus had been spoiled by his one and only boyfriend. How could anyone compare to Sirius? Those strong, powerful strokes. That touch that made Remus’ skin tingle with anticipation. Those eyes that looked deeply into Remus’ soul and pulled out precisely what Remus had secretly been longing for.
Once it had been breath play. Remus could still remember the trust he’d felt while lying in Sirius’ arms, a scarf wrapped around his neck and Sirius’ hand wrapped around his cock. The sensual strokes of Sirius’ hand had been extraordinary. And he had been able to press his ear against Sirius’ bare chest, listening to the steady, excited breaths that Remus was deprived of. His head had grown foggy and he had gotten… well, there was no real word for it apart from high. He had felt so high above everything, out of the world, beyond all planes of existence. The sensation had filled him, taken him over. And Sirius had been there the whole time as both facilitator and anchor, giving Remus unmeasureable pleasure but then bringing him back out of it again when it was over and holding him until Remus felt ready to rejoin the world again. It had been terrifying and insanely erotic all in one, and Remus had never wanted to try it again in feat that his second experience wouldn’t live up to the first.
They had tried sounding another time. Talk about terrified. It had been Remus’ idea in the first place. He’d heard about it somewhere and thought he might like the intensity. But when it came down to it, Remus had completely chickened out. He just couldn’t make his hand guide the slender rod into his penis. He knew it wouldn’t hurt if he was careful and stayed hard and still. But he was still worried it would hurt. “It’s all right,” Sirius had whispered into his ear, prying the rod from Remus’ fingers. “I can help you if you want. Or… I’ll do it instead.” Remus had shuddered and shaken his head. He had explained that he had chickened out, but Sirius shook his head, smiling. “No, I mean I’ll do it to myself. You can watch and many experience it through me.” Remus hadn’t wanted Sirius to risk his wellbeing just for a stupid little fetish. But as Sirius slowly started to insert the rod, a daring, brave fire sprung up in Remus. And, before he knew it, he was carefully sliding the other end of the probe into his penis. And there they were, connected, hearts racing, sharing something so stimulating and incredible and intimate Remus had barely been able to stand it.
There was the time they had fucked mid-flight on the back of that devil of a motorbike. The wind had rushed past them and Remus was scared they would hit a gear or setting and crash land. He could just imagine the look on some muggle’s face to see their two naked bodies lying dead on the ground amidst the wreckage, probably still erect and ready for love. But they hadn’t crashed at all. In fact the vibrations of the parts on the bike had amplified the feelings. And there had been some measure of daring involved, to fuck so publicly while flying above a busy city.
And that was the problem. Too extreme. Too exciting. Nothing any of Remus’ horny clients could come up with could compare to Sirius Black.
Because, even when the sex was as simple and vanilla as could be with Sirius, it was still the most amazing Remus had ever felt. And every time he thought of it his heart ached with pain. The man who he had trusted with his heart and his life had betrayed them all so violently and viciously that there was no recovery.
Remus was the one who had survived the war. Remus was alive, but he was broken. And there was no repairing that. It didn’t matter what he did or where he went. He didn’t want to submit to the Ministry, because he had heard enough rumors about what went on there to be terrified.
With a deep breath, he gathered up the few books he had left and couldn’t part with and packed them away. He took the photo of his friends off his table and placed it carefully in the trunk. He gathered up what few clothes he had that weren’t tattered and torn and put those in as well. He had sold just about everything he owned of value, but it was the sentimental items—his Gryffindor scarf, the pincushion Lily had given him as a birthday present, the first chocolate frog card he had ever found—that he put away. And last, he laid his wand in the trunk. Where he was going, he wasn’t going to need it, and he wanted it to be safe.
He looked one last time at it, the slender form, the twisting wood, the bulb at the end. Then he shut the lid, uttered his protective word, and made sure it locked. That was it, his past, his life, all locked up tight and secure.
Remus had lived through terror before, and he would live through this just the same.
Author: KateKintail
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Kinks: mentions Rentboy!Remus, breath play, sounding, public sex
Pairing: past Remus/Sirius, mentions Remus/OMCs
Disclaimer: This story is NOT of JKR’s making. I make no money from this at all. I also do not condone the keeping of werewolves as unwilling sex slave love pets.
Summary: Unable to make ends meet after the war, Remus submits himself to the Ministry’s program for werewolves.
Word Count: 1,213
Notes: Written for pervy_werewolf’s Lusty Month of May 2010
Remus dragged his old trunk into the center of his tiny flat and threw the top back. One of the buckles was loose and made the top fall back at an angle, dangling, jangling, and Remus stood a moment, staring at it. He dreaded going into the werewolf program, but what choice did he have, really? He had tried everything he could think of to make money, first selling his talents, then his wares, and finally his body. Not even the combination of all three had been enough to keep him from what seemed to be his fate.
And it wasn’t as though he had anyone left to fight for him or help him out. James, Lily, and Peter had all been killed. And Sirius, well, Sirius was worse than dead after just a few months in Azkaban.
Sirius. Remus sunk to the floor on his knees with a heavy sigh. Well, that relationship had certainly been a mistake and a half. They had shared a home and a bed and all the while he’d been working against the Order of the Phoenix for Lord Voldemort behind Remus’ back. And it wasn’t as though Remus hadn’t suspected he was the spy. The problem was, Remus had suspected everyone of being the spy. He had even suspected himself once or twice, wondering if maybe he had escaped in wolf form and passed some sort of information to the werewolves working for Voldemort.
He would almost have preferred it to have been him. But, instead, it had been Sirius Black. Sirius Black who loved his friends with an unrivaled passion. Sirius Black who had offered Remus a place to live when money was tight and no one would hire him. Sirius Black who could made him come practically by looking in his general direction.
Now Remus realized there had been both too many and too few of those moments. His time on the streets had taught him how different loveless sex could be from what he’d enjoyed with Sirius. Remus had been spoiled by his one and only boyfriend. How could anyone compare to Sirius? Those strong, powerful strokes. That touch that made Remus’ skin tingle with anticipation. Those eyes that looked deeply into Remus’ soul and pulled out precisely what Remus had secretly been longing for.
Once it had been breath play. Remus could still remember the trust he’d felt while lying in Sirius’ arms, a scarf wrapped around his neck and Sirius’ hand wrapped around his cock. The sensual strokes of Sirius’ hand had been extraordinary. And he had been able to press his ear against Sirius’ bare chest, listening to the steady, excited breaths that Remus was deprived of. His head had grown foggy and he had gotten… well, there was no real word for it apart from high. He had felt so high above everything, out of the world, beyond all planes of existence. The sensation had filled him, taken him over. And Sirius had been there the whole time as both facilitator and anchor, giving Remus unmeasureable pleasure but then bringing him back out of it again when it was over and holding him until Remus felt ready to rejoin the world again. It had been terrifying and insanely erotic all in one, and Remus had never wanted to try it again in feat that his second experience wouldn’t live up to the first.
They had tried sounding another time. Talk about terrified. It had been Remus’ idea in the first place. He’d heard about it somewhere and thought he might like the intensity. But when it came down to it, Remus had completely chickened out. He just couldn’t make his hand guide the slender rod into his penis. He knew it wouldn’t hurt if he was careful and stayed hard and still. But he was still worried it would hurt. “It’s all right,” Sirius had whispered into his ear, prying the rod from Remus’ fingers. “I can help you if you want. Or… I’ll do it instead.” Remus had shuddered and shaken his head. He had explained that he had chickened out, but Sirius shook his head, smiling. “No, I mean I’ll do it to myself. You can watch and many experience it through me.” Remus hadn’t wanted Sirius to risk his wellbeing just for a stupid little fetish. But as Sirius slowly started to insert the rod, a daring, brave fire sprung up in Remus. And, before he knew it, he was carefully sliding the other end of the probe into his penis. And there they were, connected, hearts racing, sharing something so stimulating and incredible and intimate Remus had barely been able to stand it.
There was the time they had fucked mid-flight on the back of that devil of a motorbike. The wind had rushed past them and Remus was scared they would hit a gear or setting and crash land. He could just imagine the look on some muggle’s face to see their two naked bodies lying dead on the ground amidst the wreckage, probably still erect and ready for love. But they hadn’t crashed at all. In fact the vibrations of the parts on the bike had amplified the feelings. And there had been some measure of daring involved, to fuck so publicly while flying above a busy city.
And that was the problem. Too extreme. Too exciting. Nothing any of Remus’ horny clients could come up with could compare to Sirius Black.
Because, even when the sex was as simple and vanilla as could be with Sirius, it was still the most amazing Remus had ever felt. And every time he thought of it his heart ached with pain. The man who he had trusted with his heart and his life had betrayed them all so violently and viciously that there was no recovery.
Remus was the one who had survived the war. Remus was alive, but he was broken. And there was no repairing that. It didn’t matter what he did or where he went. He didn’t want to submit to the Ministry, because he had heard enough rumors about what went on there to be terrified.
With a deep breath, he gathered up the few books he had left and couldn’t part with and packed them away. He took the photo of his friends off his table and placed it carefully in the trunk. He gathered up what few clothes he had that weren’t tattered and torn and put those in as well. He had sold just about everything he owned of value, but it was the sentimental items—his Gryffindor scarf, the pincushion Lily had given him as a birthday present, the first chocolate frog card he had ever found—that he put away. And last, he laid his wand in the trunk. Where he was going, he wasn’t going to need it, and he wanted it to be safe.
He looked one last time at it, the slender form, the twisting wood, the bulb at the end. Then he shut the lid, uttered his protective word, and made sure it locked. That was it, his past, his life, all locked up tight and secure.
Remus had lived through terror before, and he would live through this just the same.