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Stand and Deliver
Mar. 4th, 2014 07:59 pmTitle: Stand and Deliver
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom.
Summary: Ravished by a dandy highwayman!
Rating: 18/NC-17
Feedback: Gimme some sugar, baby.
Disclaimer: Don't own Muse, this never happened, and so on, and so on, and such.
"Dominic? Dominic!"
Startled out of his daydream, Dominic shifts in his seat, turns to face his father. Lord Howard tuts.
"Did you hear any of what I just heard, Dominic?"
The boy drops his gaze, unable to meet his father's eyes.
"No, Papa, I did not."
"Really Dominic, you are impossible! You are fifteen now, almost a man, and men do not lose themselves in childish daydreaming."
"Yes, Papa. I am sorry, Papa."
The carriage rattles on. The senior Howard consults his pocket watch.
"We are late, later than I should like. The evening is drawing on, and I would not care to be upon this road after dark. Highwaymen haunt these roads, or so I have been told-"
A pistol shot, the squeal of the horses and a voice, ringing out loud and true:
"Stand and deliver!"
The carriage shudders to a halt and Lord Howard sits bolt upright, face a mask of fear.
"Do not move, Dominic, do not speak. I will deal with this."
A face appears at the window, a dark cloth obscuring most of it. All Dominic can see is a pair of brilliant blue eyes, eyes that - even in this dimming light - sparkle with a certain predatory cunning.
"Lord Howard! This is a most unexpected turn of events, but a welcome one."
"How do you know my name?"
"Knowing such things is my business."
The senior Howard grunts.
"And what of you?" he asks, "which one of these rogues are you? The Silent Blade? The Crimson Cloak? The Dark Shadow?"
The highwayman snorts.
"A ridiculous name. Dark Shadow, indeed! As if there were such a thing as a light shadow! Well, ridiculous or no, that is the name I am known by," he touches the brim of his hat, " and I am delighted to make your acquaintance."
"I hope you will not think ill of me if I cannot return the sentiment," his lordship says, "is it not early for one such as you to be about your business? I thought you only emerged from your hiding places when the sun went down."
"We do, but I have an appetite for danger. It brings sweeter rewards."
The muzzle of a pistol is suddenly thrust through the carriage window.
"Forgive me, my lord. This has been a most pleasant conversation, but it is not conversation that I seek. Turn out your pockets, hand over all of your valuables."
Lord Howard does as he is asked. Money purse, watch, rings, snuffbox - all given up to the Dark Shadow. The thief pockets the spoils and then his gaze shifts from Howard Senior to Howard Junior. Dominic would swear he can feel those blue eyes burning into his own.
"Step out of the carriage."
Lord Howard moves to obey, but the highwayman dismisses him with a wave of his pistol.
"No, not you. The boy. I want the boy."
The lord throws himself in front of his son in a futile attempt to shield him.
"No! You shall not have him!"
"I am sorry, but I must disagree with you, my lord. I will have the boy, a temporary hostage to secure your good behaviour, or I will see his brains blown all over this handsome carriage. Which would you prefer?"
Lord Howard looks at his son, at the highwayman, his son, desperation etched upon his features.
"I will not harm him, my lord, you have my word on that."
The lord and the highwayman, two men of strong will, stare at each other for a long moment. And then Lord Howard slowly, reluctantly, gives up his son. Dominic is taken from the carriage and set upon the highwayman's horse.
"If you should hurt him..." Lord Howard's voice is hoarse, thick with unshed tears.
"I will not. I gave my word, did I not? Your son shall be returned to you upon the morrow."
The Shadow puts spurs to his horse. Dominic tries to take it all in, commit the route to memory, but they take many twists and turns and this quickly proves impossible.
They finally reach a secluded clearing. Dominic's abductor dismounts and pulls the boy down off the horse.
"My father will send men after me, you know."
"He will. But he will not reach town for well over an hour, and it will take half as long again to gather an adequate rescue party. It will be fully dark by then and these woods work to aid me, not them. They will not find us, of that you can be sure."
"Why are we here? What would you have of me?"
The highwayman pulls the cloth away from his face and the boy is struck dumb by the pale beauty now revealed to him. Dominic watches the other man remove his hat, cloak and gloves, his sword and pistols. He presses Dominic against the trunk of a nearby tree and removes the boy's coat.
Dominic begins to panic when his captor's fingers begin to work at his shirt buttons, popping them open one by one. He seizes the other man's wrists, but the highwayman laughs and shrugs him off. The boy's shirt is pulled open and he shudders when his captor strokes his chest and stomach, his touch so bold, so forbidden! And then the other man lowers his head and Dominic feels his tongue exploring him, tasting his flesh and he squeals.
"Please," he implores, trying to ignore the sensation, "please, stop this. It is not right."
The other man laughs.
"Right? What do I care about right?"
He straightens up and leans into the boy until their mouths almost touch.
"No," Dominic offers up a feeble protest.
"Yes," the highwayman insists, before pressing their lips together.
The shock of it makes the boy gasp and the highwayman seizes the opportunity he has been given, thrusting his tongue between parted lips and into the boy's mouth. Dominic wants to be strong, does not want to give into temptation. But another man's tongue in his mouth, tasting him, duelling with his own - it overwhelms him, breaks down his resistance, takes all the desires he has locked away deep inside himself and sets them free. He pulls his abductor closer and they kiss, oh, how they kiss, hot and wet, slow and deep.
They finally part, struggling far breath. The highwayman smirks at his prisoner.
"You are not quite so reluctant as you first appeared, are you, boy?" he says as he cups the prominent bulge in Dominic's breeches.
Dominic hangs his head, convicted.
"How did you know?" he asks.
"I always know. I can smell it," Dominic's hand is pressed against the matching bulge in the other man's breeches, "I can smell my own kind."
The boy clears his throat.
"How - that is - will we - "
The highwayman walks away from Dominic, retrieves a bundle hidden in the hollow of another tree on the other side of the clearing. He opens it and Dominic sees a large blanket, some lanterns, a tinderbox. The lanterns are soon lit, the blanket spread out in the middle of the clearing. Dominic is taken by the hand, lead over to the blanket.
And then he is on his hands and knees, breeches around his ankles, bare arse in the air. The highwayman kneels behind, squeezing and fondling the boy's soft buttocks. He pulls them apart and delivers a teasing lick to Dominic's rear entrance.
"Oh!" the boy cries as the other man tastes the very heart of him, "what are you doing to me?"
"I am preparing you, preparing you for an experience you will never forget."
The boy's cries and moans increase in volume as the older man prepares him, first with tongue and then with fingers. These are soon replaced with hot, firm flesh, prodding his core.
"You have never done this before," the highwayman says. It is a statement of fact, not a question.
"...no..."
"Then we will go slowly at first, and I will be as gentle as I can."
He eases the very tip of his prick into the boy's hole and stops, allowing time for the boy grow used to the sensation. Then he inches his way inside, moving slowly, soothing the boy with gentle words and terms of endearment. And then he is there, all the way in.
"Does it hurt?" he enquires.
"No..." Dominic moans, hands clutching the blanket beneath him, "it is not pain. I feel ... full."
"You are full," the highwayman hums, "full to the very brim! My God, but I do love a sweet virgin arse."
He begins to move in and out of the boy's arse, employing slow and careful thrusts. Dominic places his hands flat upon the blanket and braces himself. The sensation ceases to be strange and becomes something else. Something ... wonderful? Yes. Wonderful. A dark and wonderful pleasure.
"More," he moans, "I need more."
More is what he receives, so much more. His captor's thrusts become harder, faster, the movements of an animal rather than that of a man. Dominic's prick is aching, throbbing fit to burst. He lifts a hand to that rigid flesh and begins to pleasure himself, tugging himself in time with the prick invading his arse. He screams as he disgorges, all his reason and restraint fled. His mind has only just begun to clear when the other man grunts and pulses into him, filling his arse right up.
They lie together upon the blanket, not speaking, as they recover their wits. The highwayman is soon reaching for Dominic again and they strip each other of their remaining garments. It is a hot summer night and they feel no discomfort as they make a slow and thorough study of each others' bodies. Then Dominic lies upon his back, legs spread in invitation.
"Again?" he asks.
His lover covers him.
"Again," he agrees.
The moon is risen now, a gorgeous, golden July moon. Dominic stares up at it as he is filled, over and over again.
********************************
Dawn is breaking as they ride through the woods, Dominic wrapped in the outlaw's cloak. They stop when they reach a wide path and Dominic is urged to dismount. The highwayman points along the path.
"Stay on this path and you will come to an inn. The landlord is an early riser and he will be most anxious to assist you, once he knows whose son you are. You will be back in your house before noon."
"I do not want to go. I want to stay with you."
"I wish you could. But you cannot, Dominic, you know this."
Dominic nods, miserable. He takes off the cloak, offers it to the other man.
"No, it is yours now. A memento of our time together."
The highwayman turns his horse and rides away. Dominic watches him go, then starts along the path to the inn, cloak wrapped around him once more. He knows nothing of the highwayman's past, his future, he does not even know the man's name.
But he knows he will never forget him, or the night they spent together.
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom.
Summary: Ravished by a dandy highwayman!
Rating: 18/NC-17
Feedback: Gimme some sugar, baby.
Disclaimer: Don't own Muse, this never happened, and so on, and so on, and such.
"Dominic? Dominic!"
Startled out of his daydream, Dominic shifts in his seat, turns to face his father. Lord Howard tuts.
"Did you hear any of what I just heard, Dominic?"
The boy drops his gaze, unable to meet his father's eyes.
"No, Papa, I did not."
"Really Dominic, you are impossible! You are fifteen now, almost a man, and men do not lose themselves in childish daydreaming."
"Yes, Papa. I am sorry, Papa."
The carriage rattles on. The senior Howard consults his pocket watch.
"We are late, later than I should like. The evening is drawing on, and I would not care to be upon this road after dark. Highwaymen haunt these roads, or so I have been told-"
A pistol shot, the squeal of the horses and a voice, ringing out loud and true:
"Stand and deliver!"
The carriage shudders to a halt and Lord Howard sits bolt upright, face a mask of fear.
"Do not move, Dominic, do not speak. I will deal with this."
A face appears at the window, a dark cloth obscuring most of it. All Dominic can see is a pair of brilliant blue eyes, eyes that - even in this dimming light - sparkle with a certain predatory cunning.
"Lord Howard! This is a most unexpected turn of events, but a welcome one."
"How do you know my name?"
"Knowing such things is my business."
The senior Howard grunts.
"And what of you?" he asks, "which one of these rogues are you? The Silent Blade? The Crimson Cloak? The Dark Shadow?"
The highwayman snorts.
"A ridiculous name. Dark Shadow, indeed! As if there were such a thing as a light shadow! Well, ridiculous or no, that is the name I am known by," he touches the brim of his hat, " and I am delighted to make your acquaintance."
"I hope you will not think ill of me if I cannot return the sentiment," his lordship says, "is it not early for one such as you to be about your business? I thought you only emerged from your hiding places when the sun went down."
"We do, but I have an appetite for danger. It brings sweeter rewards."
The muzzle of a pistol is suddenly thrust through the carriage window.
"Forgive me, my lord. This has been a most pleasant conversation, but it is not conversation that I seek. Turn out your pockets, hand over all of your valuables."
Lord Howard does as he is asked. Money purse, watch, rings, snuffbox - all given up to the Dark Shadow. The thief pockets the spoils and then his gaze shifts from Howard Senior to Howard Junior. Dominic would swear he can feel those blue eyes burning into his own.
"Step out of the carriage."
Lord Howard moves to obey, but the highwayman dismisses him with a wave of his pistol.
"No, not you. The boy. I want the boy."
The lord throws himself in front of his son in a futile attempt to shield him.
"No! You shall not have him!"
"I am sorry, but I must disagree with you, my lord. I will have the boy, a temporary hostage to secure your good behaviour, or I will see his brains blown all over this handsome carriage. Which would you prefer?"
Lord Howard looks at his son, at the highwayman, his son, desperation etched upon his features.
"I will not harm him, my lord, you have my word on that."
The lord and the highwayman, two men of strong will, stare at each other for a long moment. And then Lord Howard slowly, reluctantly, gives up his son. Dominic is taken from the carriage and set upon the highwayman's horse.
"If you should hurt him..." Lord Howard's voice is hoarse, thick with unshed tears.
"I will not. I gave my word, did I not? Your son shall be returned to you upon the morrow."
The Shadow puts spurs to his horse. Dominic tries to take it all in, commit the route to memory, but they take many twists and turns and this quickly proves impossible.
They finally reach a secluded clearing. Dominic's abductor dismounts and pulls the boy down off the horse.
"My father will send men after me, you know."
"He will. But he will not reach town for well over an hour, and it will take half as long again to gather an adequate rescue party. It will be fully dark by then and these woods work to aid me, not them. They will not find us, of that you can be sure."
"Why are we here? What would you have of me?"
The highwayman pulls the cloth away from his face and the boy is struck dumb by the pale beauty now revealed to him. Dominic watches the other man remove his hat, cloak and gloves, his sword and pistols. He presses Dominic against the trunk of a nearby tree and removes the boy's coat.
Dominic begins to panic when his captor's fingers begin to work at his shirt buttons, popping them open one by one. He seizes the other man's wrists, but the highwayman laughs and shrugs him off. The boy's shirt is pulled open and he shudders when his captor strokes his chest and stomach, his touch so bold, so forbidden! And then the other man lowers his head and Dominic feels his tongue exploring him, tasting his flesh and he squeals.
"Please," he implores, trying to ignore the sensation, "please, stop this. It is not right."
The other man laughs.
"Right? What do I care about right?"
He straightens up and leans into the boy until their mouths almost touch.
"No," Dominic offers up a feeble protest.
"Yes," the highwayman insists, before pressing their lips together.
The shock of it makes the boy gasp and the highwayman seizes the opportunity he has been given, thrusting his tongue between parted lips and into the boy's mouth. Dominic wants to be strong, does not want to give into temptation. But another man's tongue in his mouth, tasting him, duelling with his own - it overwhelms him, breaks down his resistance, takes all the desires he has locked away deep inside himself and sets them free. He pulls his abductor closer and they kiss, oh, how they kiss, hot and wet, slow and deep.
They finally part, struggling far breath. The highwayman smirks at his prisoner.
"You are not quite so reluctant as you first appeared, are you, boy?" he says as he cups the prominent bulge in Dominic's breeches.
Dominic hangs his head, convicted.
"How did you know?" he asks.
"I always know. I can smell it," Dominic's hand is pressed against the matching bulge in the other man's breeches, "I can smell my own kind."
The boy clears his throat.
"How - that is - will we - "
The highwayman walks away from Dominic, retrieves a bundle hidden in the hollow of another tree on the other side of the clearing. He opens it and Dominic sees a large blanket, some lanterns, a tinderbox. The lanterns are soon lit, the blanket spread out in the middle of the clearing. Dominic is taken by the hand, lead over to the blanket.
And then he is on his hands and knees, breeches around his ankles, bare arse in the air. The highwayman kneels behind, squeezing and fondling the boy's soft buttocks. He pulls them apart and delivers a teasing lick to Dominic's rear entrance.
"Oh!" the boy cries as the other man tastes the very heart of him, "what are you doing to me?"
"I am preparing you, preparing you for an experience you will never forget."
The boy's cries and moans increase in volume as the older man prepares him, first with tongue and then with fingers. These are soon replaced with hot, firm flesh, prodding his core.
"You have never done this before," the highwayman says. It is a statement of fact, not a question.
"...no..."
"Then we will go slowly at first, and I will be as gentle as I can."
He eases the very tip of his prick into the boy's hole and stops, allowing time for the boy grow used to the sensation. Then he inches his way inside, moving slowly, soothing the boy with gentle words and terms of endearment. And then he is there, all the way in.
"Does it hurt?" he enquires.
"No..." Dominic moans, hands clutching the blanket beneath him, "it is not pain. I feel ... full."
"You are full," the highwayman hums, "full to the very brim! My God, but I do love a sweet virgin arse."
He begins to move in and out of the boy's arse, employing slow and careful thrusts. Dominic places his hands flat upon the blanket and braces himself. The sensation ceases to be strange and becomes something else. Something ... wonderful? Yes. Wonderful. A dark and wonderful pleasure.
"More," he moans, "I need more."
More is what he receives, so much more. His captor's thrusts become harder, faster, the movements of an animal rather than that of a man. Dominic's prick is aching, throbbing fit to burst. He lifts a hand to that rigid flesh and begins to pleasure himself, tugging himself in time with the prick invading his arse. He screams as he disgorges, all his reason and restraint fled. His mind has only just begun to clear when the other man grunts and pulses into him, filling his arse right up.
They lie together upon the blanket, not speaking, as they recover their wits. The highwayman is soon reaching for Dominic again and they strip each other of their remaining garments. It is a hot summer night and they feel no discomfort as they make a slow and thorough study of each others' bodies. Then Dominic lies upon his back, legs spread in invitation.
"Again?" he asks.
His lover covers him.
"Again," he agrees.
The moon is risen now, a gorgeous, golden July moon. Dominic stares up at it as he is filled, over and over again.
********************************
Dawn is breaking as they ride through the woods, Dominic wrapped in the outlaw's cloak. They stop when they reach a wide path and Dominic is urged to dismount. The highwayman points along the path.
"Stay on this path and you will come to an inn. The landlord is an early riser and he will be most anxious to assist you, once he knows whose son you are. You will be back in your house before noon."
"I do not want to go. I want to stay with you."
"I wish you could. But you cannot, Dominic, you know this."
Dominic nods, miserable. He takes off the cloak, offers it to the other man.
"No, it is yours now. A memento of our time together."
The highwayman turns his horse and rides away. Dominic watches him go, then starts along the path to the inn, cloak wrapped around him once more. He knows nothing of the highwayman's past, his future, he does not even know the man's name.
But he knows he will never forget him, or the night they spent together.
