Chapter Text
Boil makes a show of tightening the ropes one more time before he stands and looks down at Waxer, taking a moment to appreciate the view. Waxer makes a prettily rumpled picture with his hands bound behind his back and his ankles tied to the legs of the chair he’s sitting in. Unlike some of their usual outfits, Waxer is dressed in civvies, giving the impression that he’d simply been grabbed off the street. The scene is completed by the cloth gag tugged tightly between his teeth.
Giving a smirk in answer to Waxer’s faux glare, Boil saunters behind him. Waxer turns his head, trying to track Boil’s movements, but Boil grabs Waxer’s chin firmly between his fingers, forcing him to look forward.
“Well, boss,” Boil drawls. “What should we do with him?”
Their client, a Pantoran named Vorra, stands imperiously in front of them. She’s in a stylish short dress with deep burgundy and gold accents, looking commanding but enticing. Boil can see a mix of emotions flash across her features as she pauses for a couple of seconds too long, but it all settles into a confident smirk. She steps forward, her tall boots clicking softly across the floor, and she leans down to brush her fingers up Waxer’s chest to tip his chin back a little.
“We make him talk, of course,” she purrs, grinning in a way that looks more like a predator baring teeth than an actual smile.
Waxer lets out a muffled, indecipherable protest, tugging at the ropes binding his hands. Vorra’s smile only widens.
“Oh, don’t worry,” she says, stroking a single finger over Waxer’s gagged mouth. “We have ways of making you talk.”
Waxer groans and squirms in another protest that would be a lot more convincing if he wasn’t already growing hard in his pants, but Vorra doesn’t seem to mind. She actually looks the most confident and relaxed that Boil’s seen her so far.
Initially, Vorra came to Waxer. It’s not remotely the first time that Waxer has had clients wanting someone to dominate, and Waxer is happy to be dominated, but during their talk Vorra seemed anxious and hesitant to give the full details of the scene she wanted.
Boil knows a lot of nat-borns have hang ups regarding sexual fantasies that involve controlling another person (or being controlled by another person—honestly, many nat-borns worry a lot about sex in general), and it’s not unusual to have to work through some of that to get to what the client actually wants.
While Waxer’s enthusiasm did seem to reassure Vorra, he still asked Boil to help him talk to her, and somehow that was the push she needed to describe what she really wanted—a kidnapping scenario where she gets to tame and control. Boil understands that quite well. He enjoys letting go sometimes, with particular people, but the clients who come to him normally crave being controlled—and Boil is happy to oblige.
Once she finally admitted it, it was clear that Vorra wanted to be the one in charge, but just needed some extra assurance and support—so they decided to do sort of a co-dominant scene. Vorra is technically in charge, with Boil as her… the word Waxer used was ‘henchman,’ which made Boil roll his eyes internally, but it does mean that he gets to be hands-on with Waxer during the scene, so he’s not complaining. Waxer, quite happily, is playing Vorra’s victim.
Trailing her hand downward from Waxer’s chin to just above his waistband, Vorra reaches to the nearby sidetable and grabs a pair of medic shears. She follows the same path, tracing the shears down Waxer’s chest until they’re resting menacingly over the growing bulge in his pants.
“How much of a fight do you think you’ll put up,” Vorra whispers huskily, “when all you can do is beg for release?”
The words and Waxer’s low moan in response send a shock of heat right to Boil’s groin. He carefully sets the feeling aside for later, focusing instead on holding Waxer in place as he puts on a show of struggling against the ropes. “Oh, no you don’t,” Boil growls.
Vorra begins cutting Waxer’s clothes away, teasing her long nails over each new exposed area of skin as she goes. Finally she cuts away the crotch of his pants and Waxer’s half-hard cock bobs into view. She wraps her fingers around its length, stroking a few times even as she smirks up at Waxer.
“Mmmph…” Waxer lets out a muffled moan, quickly hardening in Vorra’s hand.
“Looks like he’ll be ready to blow at any little touch,” Boil scoffs. “Better make sure he doesn’t get too close.”
Waxer groans again in frustration, head tipping back.
“Now, now,” Vorra purrs. “All you need to do if you want to come is agree to talk.”
Waxer grunts out a noise that might be a string of curses if not for the gag in his mouth, squirming until Boil gives him a rough shake and tightens his arm around Waxer’s shoulders to hold him in place.
“Very well, then…” Vorra murmurs as she reaches towards the collection of toys on the side table.
“Maybe those silver clamps will help make him talk,” Boil suggests, not quite able to stop his grin as Vorra picks them up and Waxer lets out a groan of frustration. They’re simultaneously Waxer’s favorite and most hated nipple clamps, which Boil knows full well, and he smirks at Waxer’s genuine whimpers and squirms as Vorra attaches them.
Vorra seems to have a lovely time teasing Waxer endlessly, tormenting his bare skin with an electrical zapper toy and slowly running sharp little pinwheel rollers up and down his chest. She also keeps tugging at the nipple clamps, just to make Waxer yelp. In between the torture, she gives just enough stimulation to keep Waxer hard, but not nearly enough for him to get close to coming
Waxer plays his part, shaking his head in denial whenever Vorra demands that he talk and protesting vehemently whenever she draws him close to the edge before inevitably denying him.
While Waxer is still mindful of the scene, Boil can tell that his desperation to come is growing. It definitely helps that Boil knows every last one of Waxer’s buttons and keeps making little in-character comments to hint at what will drive Waxer craziest, though Vorra isn’t doing too bad herself—she falls into the rhythm of tease and denial easily.
Finally setting the toys down, Vorra grasps Waxer’s chin between her fingers again. “Still won’t talk, hm? Don’t worry, we’re not done.”
Skin flushed from his face down to his dripping cock, Waxer only whimpers in reply, and the sound is so pretty that Boil has to force himself to focus on getting ready for the next part of the scene.
Only minutes later, Waxer is naked and bound spread-eagle on the playroom’s bed. Vorra has shed her boots and is sitting languidly on the bed next to Waxer, occasionally reaching out to tug on the nipple clamps that she decided to leave on him.
“Still not talking?” she purrs, and when Waxer shakes his head, she replies, “Then you can start begging.” She nods at Boil, and he takes his place between Waxer’s legs. “Suck him, but don’t let him come.”
Boil happily follows the order and takes over teasing Waxer’s cock, slowly stroking and sucking. Waxer lets out muffled groans and curses as Boil shamelessly makes use of every trick he knows to drive Waxer to the edge.
“Since you’ve decided not to talk, may as well make your mouth useful for something.” Vorra slides up the bed and rises to her knees before deftly straddling Waxer’s head. Reaching down, she removes the gag from Waxer’s mouth, then pulls her dress up and lowers herself onto Waxer’s face.
Boil hums around Waxer’s cock as he enjoys the view. He can see Waxer’s tongue occasionally as it works up and down Vorra’s slit. Waxer shifts his head from side to side and Vorra sighs out a tremulous sound, reaching one hand behind her to brace against the headboard. With her other hand she reaches down to grab the chain for the nipple clamps, tugging on them as if urging Waxer on.
A pretty pink blush spreads across Vorra’s blue skin as she rocks her hips, letting her head fall back with her mouth open as Waxer licks and sucks underneath her. What little Boil can see of Waxer’s face is shiny with wetness, and he hums and moans at the taste of her. It’s very distracting, and Boil has to make himself focus on what he’s doing.
“You think, ah—you think you deserve to come after this?” Vorra pants. “You think you’ll get to come? Or maybe I’ll just ice you down and lock you up, keep you, haa—keep you hard and wanting for as long as I want….”
Waxer lets out a frantic groan underneath her, his head moving even faster as he works his tongue along her clit.
Finally, Vorra bears down on Waxer’s face, her legs tightening around his head, and she comes with a shaking cry. She grips the headboard like it’s a lifeline, eyes shut tight as she lets out high-pitched moans on each exhale. Letting out a long sigh, she slowly rolls her hips over Waxer’s face again.
“Oh… kriff yeah…” She reaches down to slide a finger along the wetness collected on Waxer’s chin before she huffs, tossing her head.
“Fine then… let him come.” And with that she reaches down and, in one fluid movement, grabs the chain and rips the nipple clamps right off.
Waxer yelps loudly, but his cock only twitches with interest at the sudden spike of pain. Boil picks up the pace, and after so much teasing, Waxer doesn’t stand a chance—his hips shudder and he comes with a stuttering groan.
Once Waxer finally relaxes, Boil releases his wrists and ankles from the ropes. Vorra moves off of Waxer, flopping down next to him on the bed.
“Kriff—fucking—kriff,” Vorra pants. “That was kriffing hot.”
Waxer mumbles an affirmative, lying there limply as he stares glassy-eyed at the ceiling. It may take him a bit to come down from that, though when Boil places a gentle hand on his shoulder, Waxer clumsily reaches for him. Boil squeezes his hand, trailing the fingers of his other hand over Waxer’s scalp. Waxer hums softly and gives Boil a quick ‘ok’ hand sign. Boil squeezes his hand one more time before letting go to take care of their client.