#kinkyyyy

“Janna almighty, Sil, you’ve really outdone yourself.”

You look around at the ballroom decor, almost blinded by the sheer number of reflective surfaces. Crystal chandeliers, silver pillars and arches, floor tiles so polished you might as well be walking on a mirror. You’re thankful you had the sense to wear a darker color palette, a lightweight maroon button-up with intricate black and gold details that match Silco’s suit. The whites and golds of the other guests aren’t helping your overstimulated eyes.

“Not yet I haven’t,” Silco sighs. “Perhaps when Jinx covers the building with paint in a few hours.” His voice is so flat with exhaustion that you can’t help but snicker at his comment.

“You would laugh at the newly-appointed Councilor?” Silco says in mock offense, leading you inside with your hand draped over his arm.

“This is the most intimidating thing I’ve done in my life,” you admit, looking up at Silco with an uneasy smile. “I have to laugh at something.”

Silco pauses and turns to you, cupping your face with warm hands.

“They want you to feel that way because they are intimidated by you,” he murmurs, his voice steady and low. Understanding. “If you want to step away for a moment I will take you far from these blithering idiots. Just say the word or tug on my jacket, and we’ll be gone.”

You nod and Silco gives you a kiss on the forehead before offering his arm and leading you towards the dreaded people. You weave into the social crowd, artfully dodging the clusters of annoying people. Or, at least, the more annoying people. Everyone is reliably dreadful to be around, but the two of you make do. Smiling politely at thinly-veiled insults, matching every judgment with an amused sneer. Silco even manages to gravely embarrass a Piltie claiming to have insider knowledge on the exotic Shimmer market.

“Perhaps this won’t be as miserable as I expected,” Silco hums, glancing around for more victims to humiliate before his steady smirk drops and his eyes roll. “I stand corrected.”

You look around, trying to find what’s ruined his streak of fun. A heavy sigh leaves you when you find it.

Councilor Salo is approaching. For a second, one could think he was merely walking towards your general direction, but it becomes clear he’s heading straight for you. You and Silco do well enough to mask your mutual annoyance by the time he’s opened his mouth in a smug and certainly tipsy greeting.

“I almost didn’t think you would come!” Salo says, arms spread in a grand gesture of surprise. “Zaunites are hardly known for their promises, but we would have done well to celebrate you even in your absence.” He barely manages to keep his champagne in its flute as he speaks, and distantly you wonder if he’s remotely aware of what he’s saying. He doesn’t even seem aware of your presence.

Silco manages a polite smile. “I suppose you should get used to our promises, since you and I will be seeing each other quite often from now on.”

As if he didn’t hear anything Silco said, which is certainly possible, Salo waves a hand and continues talking.

“You know, I visited Zaun recently.”

“Is that so?” Silco feigns intrigue, stuffing one hand in his pocket and wrapping the other around your middle.

“A friend suggested that I try a particular exotic cuisine. I really only went so he would stop pestering me about it!”

Silco nods along and you take it as your opportunity to check out of the conversation, letting your eyes roam across the ballroom. Salo’s mindless drivel becomes part of the background noise as you watch the other people in the crowd. They all look the same, like prize horses dancing around each other in gaudy dresses and suits, trying to prove whose status or wealth is higher. It’s a different dance than what you’re used to in Zaun, where there are no pretenses, no masks, no backhanded comments. Just the brutal honesty of individuals doing what’s necessary to survive. It makes this soiree look like an underwhelming baby shower.

Click!

You jolt as a sharp, metallic click echoes in your ears, bringing with it a familiar heady rush that has your attention dragged away from the crowd and instead to the goosebumps that prickle on your skin. Your eyes dart to Silco, but he remains dutifully attentive to Councilor Salo’s self-centered blabbering.

It must have been something else.

“I really thought they would have better amenities, but I suppose that’s just the nature of the area,” the Councilor sighs, taking a dramatically graceful sip of his drink.

“I find myself a bit parched, I think I’ll get something from the bar,” Silco says, paying little attention to Salo’s superficial comments and complaints. Your husband turns to you with a smirk playing on his lips. “Would you like anything, darling?”

Click!

Your words drop dead in your throat as that horrible (wonderful) sound fills your head again. It definitely was not something else, and Silco looks almost pleased with himself when he sees you put two and two together.

“I think I’ll come with you,” you say, trying to recover, though you doubt Salo is paying enough attention to anything other than himself to notice something is amiss. “I’m not sure what they have.”

You take the offer of his arm and follow him to the sidelines of the crowd, a litany of curses and angry swears bubbling up in your throat as you grow farther away from anyone within earshot of you.

“You fucking bastard,” you hiss, and although he pinches you, Silco smiles.

“What sort of thing would warrant that kind of language?” he asks, as if not knowing damn well what he’s hiding in his trouser pocket.

“I can’t believe you would bring such a thing to a party. Of all places!”

“This is hardly a party,” Silco sighs, looking around at the tightly maintained festivities. “You might as well admit it: bringing this–”

Click!

“–is going to make tonight much more interesting.”

Silco looks entirely pleased with himself watching you contain a shiver, your lips drawn into a thin line as you try to avoid showing a reaction. As hard as you try to keep a straight face, your mind is swarmed with all manner of salacious things. Most notably, the salacious things that got you into this situation. Images of Silco bent over you, fully clothed, stroking between your thighs until he brought you to the edge of ruin and waited for you to beg for him, to ask nicely. When you finally caved, shaking, soaking wet, on the verge of tears, there was that distinct click!, and he sent you over the edge with his fingers.

Gods, that noise. That stupid, taunting, delicious, gratifying fucking noise. It was praise, it was a reward, it was an assurance that you were Silco’s good little pet, and he didn’t even have to say the words for you to know. Eventually that torturous routine of his became a part of you, your panties soaked nearly on command with just a few words and a handful of those clicks. And he would reinforce it with his tongue, his cock, and on a few occasions he’d reward you with the chance to grind yourself to completion against his long nose.

“You’ll only be hearing it more often, lovely,” Silco says, drawing you close until your body is pressed flush against his. “I suppose I haven’t trained you well enough to react faster.”

Click!

You flinch, your resolve crumbling.

“But we’ll work on it.”

Your ears strain as you wait for another click, only to be left at the edge of expectation, anticipating its arrival now, in another second, he’ll do it, please, another, I want another please I’ll be good just click it again please.

Nothing.

“We should return, otherwise they may suspect something foul from us Zaunites.” Silco is taking your arm and gently leading you back to the center of the hall before you can even muster a word. Yes, tonight will be very interesting indeed while you try to remain the poised and elegant spouse of Zaun’s leader in spite of the slickness already forming between your thighs.

You try to distract yourself by thinking of all the ways in which you’d like to kill your husband right now, but it does little to undo the damage he’s inflicted. You’re already slipping into subspace and not particularly keen on clawing your way out. The endorphins, the rush… it’s all infinitely more pleasant than the arrogant finery that surrounds you, the ignorant cacophony filling your ears.

You hold Silco’s arm a little tighter as you make your way back into the crowd, finding comfort in his strong presence amidst all of the unfamiliar faces and prying eyes. Silco seems intent on making use of his time here to speak briefly with each councilor, assuring them that he’s taking his hard-won position seriously, despite their assumptions of his sump-rat nature.

You stand by his side, smiling politely and shaking hands, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your arousal in check. Your performance grows more convincing the more you practice it, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that Silco rewards you after each conversation.

“You’re doing very well, lovely,” he murmurs, his hand rubbing slow circles into your back. “Does my little pet have it in them to suffer through a little more? Hm?”

“Yes.” Your whisper is hoarse as you try to ignore the need throbbing between your legs, doing your best to will away the thoughts of Silco’s lingering touches and where they might be later tonight. “Yes, sir.”

Click!

“Good puppy.”

And that’s what you are the rest of the night. His good puppy. His obedient pet. Between polite smiles you dig your fingernails into his arm to keep yourself from begging for his touch. Just once, a soft caress between your thighs is all you’d need, but he’s intent on keeping his hands to himself until the night is over, and you’re going to behave.

The only person you have left to talk with is Councilor Talis, which you assume was Silco’s intention. It doesn’t take long to find him either, just follow where the crowd is most dense and there will be a flurry of people in awe at his charm and intellect.

Silco stops and waits patiently for the councilor to finish entertaining the group currently huddled around him. Jayce’s eyes flicker over to you and Silco, and he manages to excuse himself without much trouble.

“Councilor Silco,” Jayce greets, and the two men exchange a handshake. “Congratulations on the sovereignty of Zaun. Your people have much to look forward to.”

Silco’s smile is subtle but genuine. “Thank you, I intend to make this change worth their while.”

“I have no doubts. I trust you’ve spoken with a few other councilors tonight?”

“Yes, I have.” You can see Silco’s jaw churn for a second as he thinks about whether or not to hold his tongue. He decides not. “I am interested to see what effect my presence in the council will have. A few of our colleagues seem less than pleased about this solution to our conflicts.”

Jayce nods in understanding. “I think we’re all a little wary about what will happen next, change is very difficult for some. Hopefully the tension will ease as the path forward becomes clearer.”

Unexpectedly, Jayce turns to you.

“You must be Silco’s partner,” he says, still with that boyish smile on his face.

“Yes, a pleasure to finally meet you, Councilor Talis.” You extend your hand and Jayce, ever the gentleman, takes it very gently in his.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

He’s the first of these blasted councilors to pay much attention to you. He’s the first to start a conversation with you. He’s the first to show you genuine respect and treat you like you belong.

Is this the same man that Silco argued so severely with for Zaun’s independence?

Almost as if to answer your question, that dreadful click rings in your ears again.

Good, keep behaving for me.

Your cunt throbs in response, the way it’s been trained to, and you stifle a frustrated sob at Silco’s audacity to mess with you in front of Jayce Talis of all people.

“I have heard many things about you,” Jayce says, and you almost jump. You’re flustered enough to have forgotten where you are for a moment.

“A-all good things, I hope,” you chirp, and Jayce chuckles.

“Only good things. You have worked hard to make a difference in your nation. I hope to see you in a position of leadership for Zaun.”

“That’s very kind of you to say, Councilor.” Your voice wavers as Silco’s arm slips back around your waist, keeping you pressed close to him. “Though, my husband may be a bit biased.”

“A little bias goes a long way for your reputation,” Jayce says. “If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you been married?”

“Almost eight years,” you say, with a proud smile.

“Our anniversary is next month,” Silco chimes in, and his voice is such a deliciously low hum it has to be intentional.

“Oh! Well, happy early anniversary!”

“Thank you very much,” Silco says, looking down at you with a smile so warm you know he thoroughly enjoys toying with you. “We look forward to many more.” He leans down to kiss your forehead, and even as chaste as it is, it’s the most you’ve received from him all night. You lock your knees before they can buckle.

Click!

“Sorry, do you also hear that?” Jayce asks, and you fight every frantic instinct in your body. “There’s a clicking sound I’ve heard a few times now, but I could be imagining it.”

Before you can say anything, not that you had anything in particular ready to say, Silco speaks up again.

“Yes, my apologies. I found this just outside the building before we came in.” His voice is smooth and practiced, movements fluid and unhurried as he takes his hand out of his pocket. “It’s been shifting in my pocket and going off every now and then. I’m not quite sure what it is.”

In Silco’s hand is a dreadfully familiar shape. Small, sleek, black as night and discrete as shadow. Just a flash of silver where the button is at the top. Silco holds out the clicker for Jayce to see, and your heart drops.

Jayce gives it a quick look over, clearly confused, before he shifts his gaze back to Silco.

“May I?”

No, no, no!

“Please do,” Silco says, and you shift your arm, fingers poised and ready to dig into his jacket, a safe signal.

While Jayce is busy turning the clicker over between his fingers, the hand at your hip squeezes, Silco’s thumb pressing slow, soothing circles into your side.

You’re alright, lovely. Keep it together for me.

“It looks like some sort of remote, but it’s missing a power source,” Jayce says, but you can barely hear him over the rush of blood in your ears.

Click! Click!

“That’s what I thought at first. I decided to hold onto it in case someone was looking for it.” Your husband pauses for a moment before he hums thoughtfully, “I wonder what it controls.”

Click! Click! Click!

Me! Me! It controls me, you control me, Silco, please, touch me I’ve been so good please please pl–

“I have no clue,” Jayce says, holding out the clicker to return it. “The venue staff can take it off your hands when you leave, I’m sure there’s a lost and found.”

Silco slips the device back into his pocket and it must be a miracle that Jayce doesn’t realize what’s happening. Your limit is being reached, the vivid imaginations of Silco unable to be dismissed. His fingers soaked in your slick, his tongue cleaning up the glistening mess around his mouth. You can’t look up at him because you just know he’ll have that same damning smirk he always has when he’s training you, touching you, edging you, fucking you senseless and purring in your ear to take it like the good, obedient little pet you are.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Silco says, still rubbing those steady circles into your hip, urging you to hold on just a little longer. And you do hold on, even as your cunt aches and demands attention and it takes all of your power not to rub your thighs together for some kind of relief.

“Are you feeling alright?” Jayce says, suddenly turning back to you. “You look a little flushed.”

“Y-yes, I’m okay,” you say, trying not to panic. “I think it’s, err, the champagne getting to me!” You’re not quite sure that your attempt at a lighthearted chuckle sounded as lighthearted as you intended.

“They’re quite the lightweight for a Zaunite,” Silco says before another clumsy word can tumble from your mouth. Thankfully, his interjection covers well enough for you, because Jayce nods and begins to turn away.

“I won’t keep you any longer then,” he says, holding his hand out to Silco. “I look forward to seeing our nations prospering at last. Safe travels back home.”

They shake hands and Silco thanks him, a smooth and warm farewell at his lips as Jayce disappears back into the crowd. Your shoulders slump as a great sigh of relief leaves you (though, not quite the kind of relief you’re looking for right now), and Silco leads you back towards the main doors of the ballroom. He lets you lean your weight onto his side as you make your way outside and towards the carriage, murmuring sweet words of praise.

“You did so wonderfully,” he says as he helps you into the carriage. “My perfect, incredible, good little pet.” He promptly shuts the partition once he’s inside and pulls you into his arms.

“I’m going to kill you,” you mutter into his chest, and while you have nearly every intention to do so, your voice is weak and your words lack their venom with the way you cling to him.

“Something tells me you won’t be killing me tonight,” Silco hums, pulling you into his lap as the carriage churns to a start, planting kisses along your jaw and throat. “Don’t you want to be rewarded for your hard work? I would hate for you to waste all of that effort.”

A whine trickles from the back of your throat and you squirm against him, the need pulsing between your thighs overpowering your irritation as Silco coos in your ear.

“I know that was hard, my lovely, but you did so well.” A hand begins to make its way down the front of your shirt, fingers tracing the delicate embroidery above your breast. “When a good puppy behaves like that for me, they get a reward.” His hand stops at your hip and he toys with the hem of your trousers. “Do you think you should be rewarded?”

Fingers dig into the front of Silco’s vest, your face buried against him as you nod. The motion is almost imperceptible, the briefest tilt of your head, and Silco’s hand leaves your hip to catch your chin in a gentle but firm grip.

“Do you think you should be rewarded?” he repeats, good eye half-lidded. His voice is so even and controlled it borders on hypnotic, the steady calm of his words intoxicating to your lust-addled mind.

“Yes, sir, I want a reward,” you murmur, and you’re unable to take your eyes off of his mouth, wishing he would kiss you already, claim you, wash every thought from your mind until there’s nothing left but him.

“And remind me, why should I reward you?”

You swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth, feeling yourself slip fully into subspace.

“B-because I’m a good puppy.”

Click!

“Good, that’s exactly right,” Silco says and his fingers slip behind your ear, threading through your hair and lightly scratching your scalp. You melt into the gesture, eyes fluttering closed and a pathetic noise at your lips as all of the tension leaves your body.

“You deserve a reward because you’re a good puppy,” Silco repeats, and hearing him say it has you rubbing your thighs together to relieve the ache in your core. Silco doesn’t miss this, and the hand weaving into your hair travels back down again, slipping most mercifully beneath your waistband. His fingers are quick to find your slick, stroking the soaked mesh of your small clothes with a pleased smirk.

“You poor thing, I’ve left you wanting,” he purrs, the press of his fingers broadening with every slow circle, until he slips them beneath the band of your panties and the warmth of his skin meets yours. You can’t control yourself any longer and begin rocking your hips, grinding down onto Silco’s hand and moaning into his chest.

“Please– I need–”

Before you can finish your sentence, Silco slips two long fingers inside of you. Your walls tighten hungrily around his digits and lips part around a low groan as those digits curl in time with your grinding.

“That’s it, take your pleasure,” Silco whispers, and his voice is ragged as he watches you fuck yourself on his fingers, writhing in his lap and crying into his lapels. His words curl around you like smoke, filling your lungs with each heavy breath and clouding your mind. You pitch and whine, the rutting of your hips losing rhythm. The relief of finally having stimulation overwhelms you, and your orgasm takes you completely by surprise. Silco holds you through it, cooing soft little words of praise in your ear while you shiver and tense in his arms, your walls clenching around his diligently working fingers.

“Does my good puppy want another?” Silco asks, continuing to stroke between your thighs as you come down from your high, working you to overstimulation. “You did so well for me, you’ve earned more than just one.”

A desperate little “mhm” leaves you and Silco smothers your mouth with his, chasing that noise like it belongs to him. With his fingers in your cunt and his tongue in your mouth, Silco has you unraveling again in what must be record time, your hips jerking towards the blissful work of his hand and your lips spilling whimpers and mewls of gratitude.

“Perfect,” Silco murmurs as he watches you come again, eyes raking over your sweaty and heaving body in his arms. He finally pauses his ministrations, giving you a moment to breathe and recover as he slips his fingers from your panties and licks them clean.

“Please…” you mumble, voice shaky as you reach a hand between you and Silco to paw weakly at his erection. Silco stifles a grunt and his hips twitch reflexively into your hand. A fuckdrunk grin finds its way to your face and you press more firmly, beginning to massage him through his trousers, but Silco is quick to move your hand.

He brings it to his lips, his own hand still wet with your slick, and his dual-toned gaze is so dark and clouded with desire it pins you in place.

“I’d much rather you laid out on our bed,” he purrs, pressing a warm and promising kiss to your knuckles.