ffxv_kinkmeme | Prompt Post Round Five

Welcome to Round Five of the FFXV Kink Meme!

Closed for prompts | OPEN for fills

Please have a look at the extended rules here.

The important rules in short:

Post anonymously.
Negative comments on other people's prompts (kink-shaming, pairing-bashing etc.) and personal attacks of any kind will not be tolerated.
Don't be an asshole.
One prompt per comment. Warnings for common triggers and squicks are encouraged, but not required.
Prompts should follow the format: Character/character, prompt.
Keep prompts to a reasonable length; prompts should not be detailed story outlines.
Fills should have the word "Fill:" at the start of the subject line.
Otherwise please avoid changing the subject line.
No reposting of prompts from previous rounds, please.
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Please direct any questions or report any problems to the Ask a mod post.

Prompt, write, draw, comment, and most importantly have fun!

(You can also check out our Pinboard for Filled or Unfilled prompts)

If you'd like to advertise a fill, head on over to the fills post! This is, of course, entirely optional.
New Prompts are Closed for this round. Please wait until 11/13/2017 for Round Six.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It is not easy; but then, it isn't designed to be.

The MT makes the attempt five times or more, precarious wobbling progress until at last he straightens, cautiously, leaning hard against the wall as he comes the rest of the way to standing.

When he pushes free and remains upright under his own power, he totters precariously, attempting to accustom himself to the boots. They look impossible, an artist's rendition painted by a skilled hand who has never seen feet before, but the MT manages, balancing on his toes and a tiny spike.

He takes a step, and then another. He pushes away from the wall. Then his legs wobble and he goes down in a heap.

"My goodness," says Ardyn, into the microphone. "If that's the best you can do, I may as well lock you back up now."

"I'm not done yet," the MT grits out.

He struggles his way back to his feet, all sinuous strength, and this time, he stays in contact with the wall. It takes a portion of his weight as he makes his cautious way. Every step is trembling and uncertain, and Ardyn thinks again of the way the silk must be rubbing against his cock with each inch of progress.

Every now and again, the MT has to pause and bite at his lip before he can go on.

He makes it farther than Ardyn expects, truth be told. He comes to a junction of the hallway, where one corridor leads into another. Then the MT bows his head, and rubs his cheek searchingly along the wall, at the corner.

He means to be rid of the blindfold. He's a determined little thing; Ardyn has to give him that.

Into the microphone, Ardyn says, "I tied it rather tight, you know. You're only wasting time."

"Shut up," says the MT, and rubs harder.

It takes him nearly five minutes to agree under his own power with what Ardyn's told him: he'll need something better than the corner to work the blindfold free, if he hopes to do it without hands.

"There's a lesson in here somewhere," Ardyn muses. "Something about doing as you're told, I'm sure."

The MT hunches his shoulders. He doesn't reply, and instead he soldiers on.

Five minutes stretches to fifteen. The MT's steps are jerky and shivering; he has to stop often to brace himself and simply breathe. He finds first a dead end, and the breathless noise of frustration that escapes him when he realizes he has to turn around is lovely in the way a particularly well-composed ballad is charming to the ears.

Still, the MT's willpower is proving rather remarkable, and that won't do at all. Ardyn intends to win this game, after all.

"Are you holding up? Ardyn asks into the microphone, idly.

Yeeeeaaaahhhh! Go Prompto! Show the creep monster soup man what you're capable of!

He'll definitely try.

The MT doesn't reply. He makes his way forward, one tottering step after the next.

"I only ask out of concern. I'm somewhat familiar with the concoction currently working its way through your blood, you see."

The MT pauses. He's at another corner now, and he leans against the wall, heavily. "What is it?" he asks, voice soft and rasping.

"It began its conception as an energy enhancer," says Ardyn. "But testing didn't quite go as intended."

"Yeah," says the MT. "No kidding."

The MT tips his head back, to rest it against the wall. It exposes the long line of his throat; it makes him look enticingly vulnerable. From the angle of the surveillance camera, Ardyn can see straight down the tent in the MT's underthings. He wonders what the MT would do if he knew he were putting on a show.

"I was there for the initial trials," says Ardyn. "They tested it on an MT precisely like you."

The MT tenses at that; his shoulders draw in, and his head comes down, sharp and wary. "I'm not one of them," he says, voice a touch jagged.

Ardyn ignores him and keeps talking. "The lead scientist restrained the poor thing atop a metal table and applied the first dose. Within half an hour, the subject was rock hard and leaking, asking to be set free. Within an hour and a half, he grew frantic and began to fight against his bonds."

The MT swallows; Ardyn can see the bob of his throat. "You're sick."

"I was merely an observer. My point is that the effects grow stronger, the longer they're untended. By hour three, the test subject was in tears, weeping and begging, attempting to rut up against the straps that held him down."

"So I've got a time limit," says the MT. "That's what you're saying."

Ardyn feels the smirk spread across his lips, slow and indulgent. "I just felt as though you should know that the longer you dally, the more difficult your task will become."

The MT begins to walk again, with visible effort. The wall is taking most of his weight, and he's trembling considerably.

"What," says the MT. "What happened to him?"

"The test subject?" says Ardyn.

"Yeah."

"You needn't worry," says Ardyn. "At hour five, we considered the solution a failure for its original intents and addressed the new effects accordingly."

The MT doesn't say anything. He's bowed his head a little more, and shows no reaction.

"By which I mean, we recovered a probe of a pleasing size and shape, provided ample lubrication, and stuffed him so full he could scarcely think."

That garners a reaction. The MT's next step falters.

"We were quite generous, as I recall," says Ardyn, idly, as though discussing the weather. "When he asked for more, or harder, we did whatever he wished. By the end he was absolutely desperate for it, the poor thing."

"Shut up," says the MT, even as he struggles to press onward.

"We were even kind enough to touch his cock, when it became obvious that internal stimulation alone wouldn't be sufficient to end his suffering. I aided in that portion, myself."

"I said stop," says the MT, voice slightly higher in pitch.

"It required gloves, of course," says Ardyn. "For sterility's sake. But I lubricated them well, and when I closed my fingers around him, he sounded rather like he was dying."

The MT's faltered to a stop again. He's biting at his lip, swaying a little. Ardyn imagines that his own cock, snugly trapped behind a wall of silk, is going half-mad with want, hearing about what it cannot have.

*facepalm* Oh Prompto you just had to ask. When will you learn to not encourage. Creepy Chancellor Bad Touch?

Prompt Post Round Five

Fill [4/?] Ardyn/Prompto, noncom bdsm, Sexual Incapacitation

Re: Fill [4/?] Ardyn/Prompto, noncom bdsm, Sexual Incapacitation

Re: Fill [4/?] Ardyn/Prompto, noncom bdsm, Sexual Incapacitation

Fill [5/?] Ardyn/Prompto, noncom bdsm, Sexual Incapacitation

Re: Fill [5/?] Ardyn/Prompto, noncom bdsm, Sexual Incapacitation