just accept this is a soap opera

[electric_lady]

WHO: Asami and Hei
WHAT: They’ve been on a journey for two months looking for Yin. Now Asami & Hei are killing time while they wait for Korra to return.

[It's just about dusk when Asami arrives at the rendezvous point — a little house at the edge of a tiny Fire Nation village that she's renting for this segment of their journey. They'd taken to renting houses instead of hotel rooms to give them more flexibility and security, so they could separate but always maintain a solid home base. It was inexplicably important to Hei that their journey remain strictly hush-hush.

It was more understandably important to Korra and Asami that nobody found out about their threesomes. The gossip rags would eat that information up and they would none of them get a moment's peace, not to mention the embarrassment of facing their friends. Asami knows how self-conscious Korra is about her sexual history, considering both her parents and her past life never dated anyone else, and even Tenzin had only dated Chief Bei Fong before marrying Pema. Asami tries to tell her that in her thousands of lifetimes, surely one of her past incarnations has been happily promiscuous, but without the ability to communicate with them, they'll never know.

Asami lets herself into the house; she's the first one to make it back. Hopefully Hei or Korra will come soon with better news, with some sign of Yin. None of the people she met knew anything. She sighs, sets her shoes aside, and makes a beeline for the sake.

(They'd been drinking sake that first night, when they were still renting hotel rooms. Korra normally refrained from alcohol, but that night she took two shots. As they were folding up the map, getting ready to separate for the night, Korra leaned over and kissed her. Asami was too tipsy to resist, even though Hei was right there. They kept kissing each other, and their clothes came off, and somehow Hei was naked too and pounding Korra while Korra brought Asami off with her fingers. At some point Hei slipped inside Asami too, and Asami remembers thinking dimly Oh no because it's one thing to be in love with Korra; wanting to share her boyfriend is something else entirely.

They woke up sober, embarrassed, and had sex a few more times before dragging themselves out of bed. Then she and Korra had more sex in the shower so that, by the time they got to breakfast, Asami could hardly walk and couldn't count the number of times she'd come. At breakfast, they all decided to not try and put a label on what happened — or a stop. "We all like sex," Korra said. "Let's just...let it happen." And it did, just about every night they were together. This past week, when they all separated to cover more ground, is the longest she's gone without sex since they started this journey three months ago. She doesn't understand how she used to go months without it.)]

Comments

[mortemscintilla]

[ The heat of her palm seems to saturate Hei's groin, making his erection heavy and hot. It's escaped the confines of his boxers and is down his pant leg: he's going to have to adjust its position soon or it will grow uncomfortable. But for now, he's interested in hearing Asami's breath speed up by hitches, her heartbeat matching the pace where his fingertips rest at the base of her throat. ]

[ Palming her breasts through her bra, he presses them together. Gulps her fabric-covered nipple into his mouth, suckling first slowly, then almost mercilessly through the cloth, the silk smooth, wet, her nipple hard, hot. When both aureoles have crinkled into tender points, displayed lewdly through the clinging fabric, he reaches behind her, unfastening the clasp of her bra. One palm splayed against her shoulder, he nudges, a faint but unmistakable pressure, until she gets the message and lies back, head settled against one of the embroidered zabuton. ]

[ Once she does, he reaches out, carding both hands through her long hair. Working out the tangles, rough-tipped fingertips rasping across her scalp, before he gathers the heavy waves out of the way, so they aren't trapped beneath her skull. Such a different texture from Korra's. Not warm luxuriant fur. More like something fine and slippery -- handspun silk. It calls to mind a brief childhood memory of plucking the sleeve of his mother's formal red qipao at festivals, the fabric a cool slipslide under his fingers. ]

[ Blinking, half-amused, Hei shakes the memory off. Skims his knuckles from her collarbone to the soft vale between her breasts, then lower, tracing the bisecting line of ribs, exploring the comfortable softness of belly, smoothing interested hands over its curve. She isn't as sturdy as Korra: no steely abdominals or sinewy biceps. But there is a sleek blanket of muscle resting underneath the pale skin. ]

[ At the waistband of her trousers, he pauses. Runs the pad of his thumb slowly across the line of cold zipper, pressing it against her mons -- half tease, half reassurance. ]

[electric_lady]

[Okay, they're staying on the couch. Asami hopes Korra comes back late... even if they do have Korra's permission, it'd be awkward for Hei's girlfriend to walk in on them fucking without warning.

Still, Asami's not too worried about — mostly because they do have Korra's permission, and also because she's too aroused to leave room for worry. She rocks her hips up, increasing the pressure. Her hands remain on his belly, but grow a little uncertain. As much as she's enjoying things as they are, she doesn't want to be selfish.]

If there's anything you want me to do... just tell me.

[mortemscintilla]

[ The venue isn't an issue -- unless it's extremely problematic for her. With his lifestyle, Hei sleeps where he chooses -- and fucks where he chooses. If anything, he and Korra have had sex in so many locations, throughout the City and elsewhere, that he's never developed any conception of the 'bedroom' as a shrine of their physical intimacy. ]

[ Asami isn't Korra, Hei has assumed early on that sex, for her at least, tends to be ... safe. Tidy and antiseptic and comfortable. But that's no surprise. He knows her -- or at least her type. She reminds him of those soft-spoken, well-heeled girls from the Azabu neighborhood in Tokyo. Private schools. Mountainside summer-homes. Chauffeured cars. Riding and self-defense lessons. Politely polished and down-to-earth -- but even so, her gilded world has shaped her. For girls like her, sex is a ballroom dance. They're the the last person on earth, you'd imagine, as having a wild side to them. ]

[ Except it's not that simple. There is a spark to her, a quiet blue fire, and it's clear she wants to give in to that side of her. ]

[ Hei is perfectly willing to oblige. ]

[ He rocks the heel of his hand between her thighs. Lets the cool zipper press for a moment against her slit -- before he pops the button of her fly. The zipper falls down as he peels back the flaps of her trousers. Her panties are silky and expensive and he worms a hand between her thighs, feeling the moist material against his fingertips, tracing a slow line across her seam. ]

For now ... [ he murmurs, his tone carrying the smooth nuance of both comfort and command, ] I want you to relax. And give me your wrists.

[electric_lady]

All right. [Relax. Asami takes a deep breath, and with one exhale lets all the tension out of her muscles. She shifts her arms so that they come up under her breasts rather than crushing them, and offers him her wrists.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Again, the differences between her and Korra are remarkable. She melts under him as if gorgeously deflating -- unlike Korra, whose whole body is a vibrating ball of tension, every fast-twitch muscle committed to the goal of unstoppable motion. She's gotten better about letting go: lately he's noticed her newfound ease to stay still, to absorb what matters while letting the unnecessary wash over her. But even now, the suggestion to Relax makes her squinch her face up with an irritable, I am relaxed! ]

[ Of course, she's the Avatar. With her role, everything is a struggle. It knits itself deep inside her. At least, as the years have passed, she's matured, mellowed a degree. She's survived awful things, and Hei will dare to think that she might last. Live to a ripe old age, as an Avatar but also a free woman, secure in her body, her role, and her self. ]

[ He's willing to be an optimist. Korra has taught him to dare that. ]

[ Blinking, he lets the ideas of Korra slip away in favor of the sultry woman spread beneath him. Clasping her small wrists together, he reaches for the fringed tea-towel on the table -- a strip of narrow cotton, embroidered with pink sakura. He wraps it around Asami's wrists twice, folds it at the center, and secures it into a tight square knot, then takes out the Swiss army knife from his pocket and cuts off the extra fabric. ]

[ Carefully, he eases her arms up over her head, her bound wrists settled across the cushions. Skims his fingers along the bindings, testing for pinched skin, evaluating the consistency of the knots. He wants it to be comfortable, with minimal strain -- but still restrictive enough that she comprehends her own stillness, how she is hopelessly revealed. ]

[ Satisfied, he draws back to regard her -- stretched languorously taut, and ravishing. ]

[ He twines a bit of her hair in his fingers, where it spills in dark ripples over her shoulders. Brushes the ticklish ends across her mouth, idle, almost contemplative. ]

No safewords. [ At least this time. ] No means no. Stop means stop. All right?

[electric_lady]

[He draws back, and Asami carefully tests the bindings herself. She likes the way this position thrusts up her breasts; she can feel her nipples tighten and her insides tingle with awareness and desire. She imagines how it'd feel to be tied up more elaborately, with the ropes winding around her completely, making her completely immobile. Definitely, definitely wants to try that, preferably tonight but that could be the arousal talking.]

Got it.

[She rolls her hips encouragingly, but otherwise remains still, happily ceding control to him.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ On step at a time. He'd prefer to test her limits first. ]

[ Skinning her trousers down her legs, he spreads her knees, fitting himself at the juncture of her thighs. Denying her that subtle relief of pressing her legs together, managing the tension curling inside her. He doesn't touch her right away. Instead he lets his gaze meander. There is something in his eyes that wasn't visible in their past encounters -- the crackling, dangerous energy. But it's not threatening. It's enticing -- all dark-edged steel and control, because this is it, it's now. ]

[ It's a long moment before he reaches out. Trails his fingertips down her throat, tracing her collarbone, then the curve of her right breast, before covering it with the palm of his hand. He kneads it slowly, then more roughly, digging his fingernails into the pliant flesh. The skin of her chest, her thighs, her belly, is almost milky. Her nipples are a rosy pink that match the mottling flush creeping across her face. She is almost perfect, physically, but not quite. Her hips, her jaw, her torso, are all just a little too fragile -- but this, in his eyes, saves her from the banality of perfection. These attributes make her unique. Interesting to him. ]

[ Grasping her nipple between her thumb and forefinger, he rolls it slowly, then repetitively, sharp pinches to feel her pulse, to gauge how much roughness she'll allow. With the other hand, he strokes her soft, pale belly, tracing his thumb across the band of her panties. Through the lace at the top he can see the outline of her sex, framed by very wispy dark hair. ]

[ Hei doesn't slip his hand inside her underwear. Doesn't peel it off. Instead he probes her moist seam through the fabric, a single finger. Measuring between her pubic lips, front and back, once, twice, again, dampening the fabric with her seeping juices, before he plunges deeper between them, the lace a soft tugging friction across her clit. ]

[electric_lady]

[For which Asami is glad, though it's hard not to be impatient when it feels so good. But she focuses on the now — the fierce tugs on her nipples, the way he squeezes her breast almost hard enough to bruise. She has Korra's affinity for rough play, without the emotional scars from previous abuse; there's nothing to mar her enjoyment.]

Oh — [The rub of lace pulls the first sound out of her lips. Her eyes flutter shut and she clenches her fists, savoring the sharp sting of her nails against her palm.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei allows himself a private half-smile of appreciation at the noise that's coaxed from her throat. Not, "Uh," or, "Mmm," or any of those delicious kittenish cries that escape Korra when her desire ratchets higher, but that single, soft, fully-formed word, the purest articulation of pleasure he's heard from her tonight. Yet she's easier, freer, about it than Korra ever is -- and it makes something drag rusted nails into his heart. It's his fault, he knows that. It's the reason why, whenever Korra comes to his mind, it is always with a fizzy rush of feeling, a bloom of brilliant color, a jittery bottomless yearning -- and a horrible regret. ]

[ He can't keep thinking of Korra. ]

[ His finger commences a languid seesawing motion, over and over. Sliding down to Asami's damp entrance, then sliding back up to her clit, a soft rasp of silk and slickness across where all her sensation centers and crackles. Leaning in, he licks a hot flat stripe across the undersides of her breasts, where the lace of her bra has left its faint pink calligraphy. His cock is a suffocating ache extending down the leg of his pants -- and the buttery warmth of her body feeds a more restless twitching. ]

[ He ignores it -- at least for the moment. Dips his head so he can gulp one breast into his mouth, suckling hard, feeling the scrape of pebbly aureole across his teeth. Nothing like Korra -- a lush, mouth-watering bounty that makes him want to growl and bite. But the very difference makes it voluptuous and intriguing. He feeds on her breasts with a ruthless pressure, teething and stretching and lapping at them, drawing them into beestung pink points. When he's done, he leaves her breasts shining damply from his mouth, faint red rings of teethmarks across the pale skin. Even the bruising is different from Korra's -- less burnt-looking blotches, more rosy daubs. ]

[ Nothing a damned thing like Korra. Maybe it is about Korra, somehow, but this girl is lovely and different and new, and she wants to see how much she can take, how much he's ready to give. ]

[ That's pretty fucking sexy. ]

[electric_lady]

[What's between them will always be about Korra. The reason Asami trusts Hei enough to do this is the devotion he's shown to her friend; the reason she's interested in exploring bondage is it's something she couldn't do with Korra. Maybe, if she wasn't so in love with her friend, she would have found someone else with whom she could have developed the trust to do this. But she never had the incentive.

What's between them is always about Korra, but that doesn't mean he's a substitute or a proxy. Asami is attracted to Hei on his own merits; he falls very firmly into her physical type (both Mako and Korra, after all, are extremely strong without being bulky like Bolin). The person she's fucking right now, and the person she wants to be fucking right now, is him.

She arches up into him, panting as her pleasure builds. The frustration of her bound wrists only adds to the delicious tension.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ The sight of her, hair in inky curls around her pale skin, eyelashes a dark flutter on flushed cheeks, makes Hei's pulse kick up. When she arches under him, the needy undulation is at once self-absorbed and languishing, doing gorgeous things to the shape of her breasts, stretching the skin taut across the V of her ribcage, her stomach a soft trembling slope, her taut thighs limned by the yellow lamplight in perfect relief, all of her body arrowing its tension toward her groin. ]

[ Idly, he bites the underside of one breast. Runs his tongue in a wet, careless swathe across her belly, abrading the soft skin with the stubble that breaks like fine-powdered emery across his cheek. She'll let him do anything, that is clear; almost anything within the bounds of logic and sanity. Close enough to anything to make her feel very, very good. ]

[ The heel of his palm presses insidiously against the soft pillow-flesh of her mons. He kneads her there slowly, a sustained pressure, too much yet not enough. Rims her entrance with a finger, going round and round, feeling the pooling moisture, how it dampens the fabric of her panties. Searching, then fixing, on one good spot inside her, rubbing rhythmically there, up and down, up and down, a bare whisper of fulfillment -- right before he takes his hand away. Grabs a fistful of material at her waistband, roughly wrenching her panties down and off her, letting the cool air touch the exposed flesh of her wet slit. ]

[electric_lady]

Ah! [She didn't think the room was that cold, until he rips her panties off and the air hits her hot, swollen skin. Her breasts feel raw from his stubble; everything hurts, but she loves it. Her right leg slips off the couch, mostly because there's really not enough room to be doing this here but it has the added benefit of opening herself wider for them.

Her skin trembles, anxious and eager for whatever he chooses to do next. Maybe he'll torture her with his tongue. Maybe he'll pull out his erection & bring himself off with her breasts. Maybe he'll fuck her mouth — just thinking about it makes her lick her lips and take a deep, shuddering breath. Her mind dances with the possibilities, each new thought racheting up her excitement. But she doesn't say anything; she just enjoys the delicious mystery of wondering what he'll do next.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ More likely all three -- at his own sweet time. ]

[ Kneeling between her splayed legs, Hei lets his gaze slip from her sweetly tortured face to the trembling stem of her body, nipples bitten pebble-hard and soft breasts blotched with his rough kisses, then down between her thighs. Her sex isn't like Korra's -- an amazing, beautiful mess of pooched folds and dewed black curls. She is trimmed very close, the way you see in magazines. Manicured. A sparse dark line, nothing else, and the way she is spread, he can see that obscenely pink flesh peeping beneath, the delicate, ruffled fringe of inner lips that is nearly the same shade as her nipples. ]

[ Idly, he strokes her thighs, marveling at the poreless skin, the texture like a newly unrwapped tablet of soap. Then with his finger and thumb, he reaches into the scrim of silky damp hair itself and traces her tender public lips, before coaxing them very wide open. Shifting, Hei leans in, his gaze sweeping across her like the slow movement of a clock hand. Exhales, his breath a hot feather across her slippery entrance, the unhooded nub of her clit. ]

[ Despite all their earlier threesomes, he hasn't gotten around to eating her out yet. But that's no surprise -- cunnilingus is pretty low on his list of preferred activities. The role of the olfactory nerve in matters of arousal is hugely significant for him. That heavy, hormonal, almost pungent scent of a woman can be either an amazingly powerful trigger -- or an absolute turn-off. Asami's scent is very different from Korra's. Lighter, almost earthy, like the wet loam of early spring. ]

[ He likes it. Likes too, the slick topography under his tongue, as he drags it across her labia, performing a jawbreaker swirl, without the jawbreaker, while with his hand, he finds her clit, working it gently between his fingers, back and forth, back and forth, a teasing overload of sensation. ]

[electric_lady]

[I don't know, Hei, cunnilingus seems to be one of your favorite activities with Korra. The practice you've logged in with her certainly shows. Korra is really good with her tongue, but it takes awhile to get Asami really worked up — a slow, steady climb. Right now she's hurtling up through the air like gravity is backwards. Maybe it's him; maybe it's being bound. Who knows what makes the difference.]

Hei — [It's not a moan or a whine; more a breathless expression of appreciation.] Harder. I'm... going to come. [A part of her can't believe it's happening so quickly; another part realizes she actually has no idea how much time has passed.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Cunnilingus with Korra will always be one of his favorite activities. He's not sure what alchemy, what complex mix of pheromones, shapes his desire. Maybe it's that fabulously tart taste of her, that electrifying musk. Maybe it's the way her response to his attentions is always something to behold, her sex demanding its pleasure with the fluttering ferocity of a sea anemone at the kill. Hei has no idea what it is. He only knows it makes him wish for the tongue of a reptile. ]

[ That's not to say he's not enjoying doing this for Asami. He knows it takes time for her to climb -- a slow burn fed by patience and focus into a pure, white-hot flare. But right now, she's slipped with gratifying speed straight into the zone -- singleminded and breathless and stunningly lewd -- all stirring hips and jittery breaths. Hei watches her as she climbs, his dark gaze hungry and hawkish. But the noise he makes in his throat -- a subvocal thrum -- is almost an Uh-uh. He's not planning to let her come so soon. ]

[ Catching her clit between soft lips, he laps at it with the rough edge of his tongue. Stabs it into her entrance, wet, thick slurps, before licking her clean -- right before he suddenly, savagely, sucks at her clit. Just enough to send her teetering to the very tip of orgasm -- before he lets her go. ]

[ Rocking back on his heels, he wipes his slicked mouth with the back of his wrist. His breaths are knocked ever-so-slightly out of rhythm, but still deep and steady. ]

...Not yet.

[electric_lady]

What? [Asami jerks up, inadvertently whacking the couch with her bound hands. Normally her self-control is much better than this, but that last savage suck blasted it away. She stares at him, struggling to get her breathing back under control, to get a handle on her frustration.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ She is a picture of lovely dishevelment -- messy-haired and wild, cheeks high with heat and eyes a hazy green shimmer. A smile sneaks at the corners of Hei's mouth: it is rewarding to see her stripped of the protective barrier of her serene self-possession. It is its own form of exposure. ]

[ With a free hand, he reaches out to cup her cheek. Traces his thumb across her parted lips, and into the waiting heat of her mouth. When he speaks, his voice is quiet -- a soothing monotone that doesn't betray his fast-thrumming interior. ]

Some things don't mean so much if you don't earn them.

[ This isn't meant to proceed at her pace -- but his. And what he wants most is for her to drink in the full measure of what she's agreed to. For him to coax her to -- and then through -- her sexual limits. Little Miss Sato, who handles all the biggest deals in Republic City. Keeps at an arm's length all the men with fancy titles and tailored suits, eager for a one-off with the beauty who holds a veritable empire in the palm of her hand. Handles them across boardroom tables, at close quarters in limousines and couches. Controls them with those soft green eyes, with the small permissions they can grant or strip away. ]

[ Right now, those subtle permissions aren't hers to give. (Unless she says 'Stop.' Then the games will desist entirely.) ]

[electric_lady]

[She takes the hint when he slips his thumb inside her mouth and sucks on it, running her tongue into its creases, teasing it where her lips wrap around it. She can taste her lipstick faintly on the pad. The control she'd briefly lost slides back into place; this is what she asked for. She asked him to take control and make the choices.

Asami sinks back into herself, focusing on his finger until the frustration between her legs is nothing more than a small knot, like a little bag of gunpowder waiting for a spark.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei lets off a whuff of incited breath through his nostrils as she sucks beautifully, eagerly, on his thumb. Soft red lips embrace the digit, her tongue a wet, creamy laving, as he slowly fucks her mouth with it. He watches her regather her equilibrium, like dozens of loose threads slowly knitting themselves back together into one sleek furl. It will be interesting to pluck it apart and watch her unravel once again. ]

[ When she's calmer, he withdraws his thumb from her mouth. Sketches the shape of her lips with the pad of it. Her lipstick is dark and slick and tasteful: he can't resist smearing it across her chin, ruining its artistry just a little. When he leans it to kiss her, a wet biting flutter, he can taste it clinging faint and plasticky to his own mouth. ]

[ Sitting up, he drops a hand to unfasten his belt. The buckle is heavy: it clanks as he undoes it, before dragging the belt free. In his jeans, his erection thumps for attention, a blood-heavy cramp. But it's easy to ignore. The long swathe of milk-white skin across her body seems to call to him. Doubling the strap of the belt through his right hand, Hei drags the buckle across her hip: there is something intimate, almost indecent, in that large cold hunk of metal coasting across her warm skin. ]

[ Twisting his wrist, he lets the flat leather end of the belt swat her thigh -- light, almost experimental. ]

Yes, or no?

[ He's not planning to leave marks -- but he does intend to make her sing for her metaphorical supper. ]

[electric_lady]

[Asami's nose wrinkles a little when he smears her lipstick — she can picture it in her mind's eye and it looks silly, which is a look she tries to avoid. The mild annoyances passes quickly as he kisses her, and she finds herself sinking back, moving her hands back above her head when they both break for a breath before kissing again.

He pulls back and undoes his belt, and Asami wets her mouth, ready to repeat what she'd done with his thumb. But his pants stay on. Instead, he swats her thigh and she yelps as much in pleasure as in surprise. The sting goes straight to her clit, as though he's pinching it.]

Do it again. [Her sex flutters with desire, though she keeps the rest of her body perfectly still.] I mean, yes. Please.

[mortemscintilla]

[ He hears the longing coloring Asami's tones: she is sweetly radiant, burning with the ripening temperatures of lust and submission. But there is also an undertone -- far stronger than her need -- of her trust. The trust that he won't overstep, that he's sane enough not to damage her, to batter her bloody. It's enormous, and he can't imagine why she's bestowed it on him, or how much it's costing her. He simply plans to ensure it doesn't go unrewarded. ]

[ He doesn't begin right away. Instead he skims a hand up her flank, fingers light as they encompass the pale orb of one breast. He kneads it, first idly, then cruelly, plumping it high, before catching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Something in his quiet voice signals that this is a command, not a request. ]

Yes or no only.

[ The fingers stretch her pebbled nipple and snap it. And then the dark tongue of the leather belt unfurls. He teases its length across Asami's breast, as if getting her used to it, a cool alien rasp across her soft skin -- right before he brings the belt down, thwacks her breast in a series of hard slaps. Not enough to bruise her, but enough to redden the skin, to make it seethe with sensation, the strap licking across her nipple again and again. ]

[ Her skin is a gorgeous splotchy red when Hei turns his attention to the other breast, plumping it in the same manner, twisting the nipple. Again comes the strap, licking at her nipple, a cruel orgy of stinging blows, until her skin is mottled an exotic chameleon-pattern of pink, the nipple pebble-hard under the torrent of sharp licks. ]

[electric_lady]

Yes. [That tone of command makes her feel warm, like a cup of sake. The trust she's placing in him is a reflection of her trust in Korra. Considering her history — her mother's murder, Mako's betrayal, her father's madness and attempt to kill her — trust does not come easily, particularly with men. That's one of the reasons she's never found someone to try this with before; it requires more trust than she can build up with a new person.

She finds herself holding her breath as he smacks her breasts, little almost-grunts escaping with every crack of his belt. The pain goes straight between her legs, until it almost feels like there's an invisible hand pinching and twisting her clit. Only somehow it's more intense than direct stimulation. She'd love to figure out why, except this, right now, is much more engaging.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ She's so beautifully subdued compared to Korra's feral, stormy-eyed allure -- quiet but without those invisible hooks of tension. Her little noises, each time he hits a particularly sensitive spot, are like white-hot pennies pinging off his spine, sending up tiny curls of smoke. ]

[ It's a long moment before he leaves her tortured breasts alone. Gorgeously splotched -- each of them is probably a terrible burning ache by now, In comparison, the soft white sweeps of her thighs beckon. Angling his belt, he lets loose a fresh rain of licks across them. Hard snapping spanks that make the pale flesh quiver, the heavy leather striking her with loud, echoing cracks, the skin seeming to ignite under the blows -- a radioactive pink. Harder and harder the blows come -- but it's not a spike of force. More an achingly slow climb, a tease, a tender cruelty. ]

[ And then his hand is between her legs, forcing her thighs apart, her sex laid bare for him as the strap swings down, licking across the plump mound, the leather scraping across her clit. Not with force, but with a relentless sting like horseflies across the slick flesh, until he can see the lips puffing, the moisture oozing, the slaps sounding wetter and wetter, as if intent on transforming her sex, her whole body, into a formless explosion of fire. ]

[electric_lady]

[Breathing is how you manage pain — Asami knows that from Korra's long recovery from her poisoning — but even knowing that, she keeps holding her breath, only to let it out in ragged coughs when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. The sting takes long to fade each time, until it doesn't fade at all; there's just a steady flame of pleasure-pain. Tears prick at her eyes as he moves from her breasts to her thighs, but she can take the pain. The switch to her legs gives her a chance to marshall herself together.

Yet nothing can prepare her for the bright, flaring shock when he strikes between her legs. She actually screams — a short, strangled sound.]

Wait — [Give her sometime to adjust, to get her control together, but he strikes again and her entire body convulses. She struggles against her bonds, wanting desperately to massage her breasts. She's so close to coming, all she needs is one little something, one extra touch, even something as simple as a gust of air across her nipples.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Except he's not planning to let her come. Not yet. Not this way. ]

[ He can tell how close she is, a taut thready strain vibrating through her whole body, her hips rising judderingly as if to meet the strap. Her scream leaps through him with something like a quiet triumph. But he doesn't slow down, flicking that exquisite torment between her legs, over and over, until he knows she's swollen, brimming, at the excruciating tip of orgasm. ]

[ Only then does the strap lie against the burning mouth between her legs without motion. Drawing the belt away, Hei lets it drop. His pulse beats through every taut inch of him. His breaths are shuddery, but deep, as if to quieten the buzz inside his skull. She's doing so well, allowing him to construct this elaborate, merciless chain of lascivious inevitability. It will be rewarded -- but it won't preclude the punishments in between. ]

[ Unbuttoning his trousers with steady fingers, he drags down the zipper. Lets her see the darkish, wet-tipped length of his cock appear in his hand, withdrawn from the parted jeans and white boxers, a prurient display. Letting her know the effect she has on him -- but reminding her that her ordeal is far from over. His eyes are half-lidded, soft, yet somehow remote -- accepting no compromise. ]

Yes or no only. Isn't that what you were told?

[ Climbing the couch, he moves up over her, almost straddling her torso -- but without placing any weight on her. Takes hold of the armrest by her head and pushes up closer, parting her swollen red lips, nudging the head of his cock through them with a coaxing but firm motion. ]