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Guillermo is out of breath. He doesn't try to hide this. Nandor likes hearing him pant for air, likes the auditory proof that Guillermo is fully exerting himself.
They've been at this for a while now. At least a few months. Every other week like clockwork, on Guillermo's night off, they meet underground. The former site of the council headquarters, in one of the deeper dungeon rooms untouched by Nadja's extensive renovations.
In the beginning Guillermo had been tentative, holding himself back. "Don't wantt to hurt you..." He had mumbled, when pressed for an explanation.
Nandor had put his head to one side, much like a puppy, frowning in genuine confusion, "Don't you?" He'd asked disbelievingly, "Why not?"
And Guillermo hadn't had an answer for that.
So now he swings with abandon. Focusing all his not inconsiderable rage along with the stiff leather of a single-tail bullwhip, on Nandor's bound body. The marks fade too fast for his liking. Lurid red paling to pink and then vanishing altogether even though he knows the pain remains. He feels like he's racing time to leave fresh blemishes before the old ones disappear.Nandor is a vision, though. Lashed to a stone table, naked but for the chain around his torso and the heavy shackles on his wrists and ankles, wailing with every thud. It makes Guillermo hard as a rock. The power he holds. The power that’s given to him.The timbre of Nandor’s cries has changed now. Guillermo feels the need to check in.
He circles around until he's standing in front of Nandor's bowed head. Panting aside, he actually feels pretty calm. He lifts Nandor's chin with the hand not holding the whip, "What's all this? Hm? Are you crying?"
Nandor blinks up at him, he looks wrecked, onyx eyes swimming with tears, beard slick with drool and lips swollen and bloody where he’s bitten into them. "S-sorry." He whimpers.
Guillermo clucks disapprovingly, "Do you really think a few silly tears will stop me torturing you for as long as I want?"
"No."
Guillermo's fingers tighten, hard enough to bruise (he wishes they would) "No, what?!" He snarls.
"No sir!"
"Better. What do you say if you need to stop?"
"Safe...safe-word."
Guillermo forces an exasperated sigh, "Tell me what the word is , Nandor."
"S-silver."
"There so you do remember. Crying and begging will do you absolutely no good, mi amor , you should know that."
Tears fall anew, "I'm...sorry..."
"You will be." Guillermo retraces his steps, "This doesn't end until I'm satisfied." He says, ominously.
Nandor's answering whine is equal parts pleased and pleading.
Again Guillermo swings, sheer force of the impact ricocheting up his arm. Nandor howls.
The nice thing about vampiric healing is Guillermo doesn't have to worry about a misplaced strike causing any permanent damage. Although he does still wince a bit in sympathy when the whip catches Nandor's sac on the next wild hit. Nandor screams so loudly that it hurts Guillermo’s ears, but he doesn't say ‘Silver’, so Guillermo keeps going.The steady thwack of the leather and Nandor's increasingly broken cries meld together with Guillermo’s grunts of effort until it almost sounds like music.
Then Nandor starts making those hiccupping gulps that really signify that he's approaching a limit. Guillermo lets the whip fall to the ground. He could carry on, push Nandor to the edge of his admittedly impressive pain tolerance, but Guillermo's dick is throbbing for attention, and he doesn't want this to end quite yet.
He steps up behind Nandor and unsheathes himself, spreading Nandor’s cheeks roughly and thumbing at his slicked hole. He'd like to do this naked, at least he can see the appeal in it, but he's not quite there yet. He's in a vest and shorts and that's as nude as he intends to get. Besides this has always been more about getting his hands on Nandor's body rather than being touched himself.
Nandor's heavy cock hangs soft, spent already from the onslaught of sensation he's been captive under.“Beg me for it.” Guillermo’s voice is taut and hoarse. "Please...oh please.”Guillermo digs his fingers into Nandor’s hips. Cruelly scraping his nails over the rapidly dissipating purple-red blotches. Nandor jerks, crying out, sending the chains clattering. “Please! Please fuck me! Please Sir!”Guillermo lines himself up and slams in. Nandor continues to mumble a steady stream of supplications even as Guillermo pounds him rough and thorough. He isn’t going to last long. He can already feel the approaching orgasm fizzing under his skin. He fists a hand in Nandor’s hair, pulling their bodies flush together and he spills deep inside him with a damp growl.
He comes back to earth, an undetermined amount of time later. His flaccid cock has slipped free, and he’s collapsed over Nandor’s back. The vampire is trembling beneath him. A cursory look at his face tells Guillermo that he’s floating in subspace. Guillermo tucks himself back into his shorts. There’s work to be done.He begins with light touches. He can't carry a tune to save his life, but he's noticed that humming helps too. "I'm going to take the cloak off now." He says softly. He tries not to fumble. He knows where the cloak was, but it's become dislodged at some point, so he has to root around for the clasp.
This part never stops being unnerving, watching Nandor's dark hair morph back to blonde, his imposing form shrink, features rearranging themselves as the cloak of duplication slides from the Guide's shoulders. Guillermo folds it messily and tosses it aside.
He undoes the restraints next, then holds up the towel that he’s warmed on the radiator. As usual the Guide moves into it much slower than Guillermo would like. It's not that he hates the sight of her, it's just confronting. He wants her to have all the time she needs to recover but what about his need to not be immediately smacked in the face by the falseness of their scenes?
She rests her head on his shoulder and sighs happily, "Thank you."
He strokes her welted back, "How are you feeling?"
"I had multiple very satisfying orgasms. If that's what you meant?"
"It wasn't, but thanks for sharing."
"I'm getting better at the voice, aren't I?"
She really isn’t, but Guillermo murmurs something in the affirmative anyway. It would hardly be fair of him to criticize her when it has taken him so long to stop stumbling over the use of Nandor's name when he addresses her during their scenes.
He feels a familiar dull sort of panic rising within him. He shoves it down, he’ll save his freakout for when he gets home. It's not that he doesn't think the Guide will be able to support him. It's that he knows she would - enthusiastically and probably very effectively. And he cannot bear the prospect of such tenderness. Not when he’ll have to look the real Nandor in the face in a few hours and be normal about it. “Almost daylight.” He tries to keep his tone light and casual. “Yes. I should slumber some.”“And I need to get back.” He needs to get away, more like. He won’t push her off of him, as much as he desperately wants to put some distance between them. He’s not a monster. Not that kind of monster anyway. He waits for her to break the embrace. Which she does, finally, reluctantly, face twisting in a funny sort of grimace.“Well okay then.”Guillermo swallows, offering up what he hopes is a convincing smile before turning his attention to dressing himself and gathering his things. He turns to look at her then, when he can't prevaricate any longer. There's a lot of unspoken shit floating in the dank air. He addresses none of it, forces a tight smile.“Until next time.” “I can hardly wait.”