Re: A Ship Run Aground (M/M) - APR 15 NEW chapter!
Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2025 5:13 am
@DeeperThanRed @Socksbound @gag1195 @KidnappedCowboy @harveygasson @Guardianbound @Bradstick
At least the bed was comfortable.
Senma had been returned to his quarters with the utmost respect a guest was due. And that same utmost respect was applied to ensuring he was bound spread-eagled and silenced, a fine net of chains placed over the bed, and the sailor linked to them, like an insect caught in a spiderweb.
That damnable muzzle was returned to him, viciously tight from the ire of the serving lad he had tricked - so much for bygones being bygones!
Something about Berheim, Senma guessed - it was always trying to ensnare him. It often succeeded. Whether it was the chains of its conquerer or the wiles of its queen, the land of rivers had wound its way round his sea-salted heart.
Hours, it seemed. His arms had long since passed ache and into numbness, and his jaw creaked if he dared try to gnaw upon the obstruction drying out his mouth. He whiled away the time counting each tile in the portion of the ceiling mosaic he could see. How targeted - the pattern was of the goddess of tides! It nearly made Senma laugh.
You'll have to do better than that, Princess.
"I see you've noticed the art." Esme's sardonic voice resounded, almost in response.
Senma refused to give her the satisfaction of jolting or looking to meet her gaze. But he felt that she had seen his minute moment of freezing up.
She approached, reaching out and gently resting her hand on his stomach, caressing the rippling muscles there, before she climbed into the bed, tucking herself against his side.
He felt her warmth near him, and his instinct was to try and curl around her. But with that being impossible, he contented himself with the knowledge that his Princess was more like his beloved ocean than she claimed - untamable and never truly belonging to anybody but herself; and it was something he loved about them both.
Esme said nothing, her pale fingers drawing soft, lazy spirals along Senma's bronze skin. For a long moment she stayed like that, her cheek on Senma's shoulder, before she lifted her head into his field of vision. She pressed a gentle kiss to the muzzle's leather over his mouth, and he would've given the world to have the layer of leather and fabric removed. His eyes met hers, her hair hanging down over one shoulder in a curtain, and Senma felt strands tickling his nose, the scent of her hair wafting around him...
She distracted him like no other, and he knew she knew it. What was a sailor to a princess? A Shiplord to a Queen? A demigod of waves to a tamer of rivers?
Esme slowly removed the muzzle. "They didn't even use the built-in restraints." She glanced in slight disapproval at the chain net. Her fingertips ghosted across Senma's lips before plucking the massive wad of sodden fabric from his mouth.
"A shame they don't know how easy you made it for them to restrain me." Senma jabbed, though he couldn't bring himself to lob any true acid her way.
Esme straddled him, admiring the line of his jaw, before leaning over him. Teasing him by moving as if she would grant him the kiss he so desired, but stopping to press a well-concealed button on the headboard.
"Damn you." He whispered into her hair, and she laughed, before pushing his wrists into the fine leather cuffs springing from concealed chambers in the bedposts. She then freed him from the chain net with a silver knife, but he was already stuck.
She guided him into a sitting position, the cuff chains sliding up on tracks that had been well concealed in the posts, locking them in place in slots among the slats making up the bed's canopy while not concealing the mosaic above.
Senma now balanced on his knees, wrists chained up above his head and spread out, as she used the knife to cut away what was left of his prisoner tunic, leaving his torso bare.
"Do I still please you, Princess?"
"You're still far too cocky."
"Well, can't help that. I'm a shower."
"Churl."
"Tease."
She burst into laughter, and he chuckled along, his heart thrilling when she leaned into him.
"If I'd known bondage was what it took to earn your affection, Lady, I'd have begged to be your pet long ago." Senma sighed. She nuzzled into his neck again.
"I wouldn't have let you. It'd be a crime to keep you from the sea."
"Not if I was at the mercy of something just as implacable. Being at your feet... a man would never miss the sea."
"Damn you." Esme groaned. "You might've thought about telling me this years ago. Or spiriting me away from this castle when we first met."
"I did think about it." Senma admitted. "But you needed... no, you deserved the chance to choose for yourself. You need no husband to order you about or king to dictate your fate. I would gladly fight all your battles, Esme - but you would not thank me for it."
Esme looked at him in something resembling wonder, and no small amount of mingled frustration and pleasure. "I suppose you really are a demigod."
"And you have befriended metal, haven't you?" Senma grinned. "Imprisoned men and made it grab them for you."
"You mean the magnetic plates? Yes... I have learned to speak to metal, I think."
"That's my Princess." He gave into the instinct, reaching to draw her into a hug before groaning in irritation at the restraints. "Are these truly necessary?"
She moved close, embracing him, letting him bury his face in her hair the way he wanted. Esme pressed their skin together, and kissed his chest. He almost felt greedy for wanting more, and then he did his best to surrender.
She smiled up at him. "Well, King of the Waves... I think you've languished long enough."
"I quite agree, Queen of the Rivers."
She laughed at him then, before she retreated to the writing desk, where she had laid a small package. From it, she withdrew a straight razor. "Time to tame whatever that thing on your face is."
"You don't like my rascal's beard?"
She giggled. "I'll try to get it to something nearing rascally, I promise."
He flexed in the restraints, as if he had any power. "I'll hold you to that."
"I hope you do." She whispered, before she kissed him, deep and passionate as the ocean.
At least the bed was comfortable.
Senma had been returned to his quarters with the utmost respect a guest was due. And that same utmost respect was applied to ensuring he was bound spread-eagled and silenced, a fine net of chains placed over the bed, and the sailor linked to them, like an insect caught in a spiderweb.
That damnable muzzle was returned to him, viciously tight from the ire of the serving lad he had tricked - so much for bygones being bygones!
Something about Berheim, Senma guessed - it was always trying to ensnare him. It often succeeded. Whether it was the chains of its conquerer or the wiles of its queen, the land of rivers had wound its way round his sea-salted heart.
Hours, it seemed. His arms had long since passed ache and into numbness, and his jaw creaked if he dared try to gnaw upon the obstruction drying out his mouth. He whiled away the time counting each tile in the portion of the ceiling mosaic he could see. How targeted - the pattern was of the goddess of tides! It nearly made Senma laugh.
You'll have to do better than that, Princess.
"I see you've noticed the art." Esme's sardonic voice resounded, almost in response.
Senma refused to give her the satisfaction of jolting or looking to meet her gaze. But he felt that she had seen his minute moment of freezing up.
She approached, reaching out and gently resting her hand on his stomach, caressing the rippling muscles there, before she climbed into the bed, tucking herself against his side.
He felt her warmth near him, and his instinct was to try and curl around her. But with that being impossible, he contented himself with the knowledge that his Princess was more like his beloved ocean than she claimed - untamable and never truly belonging to anybody but herself; and it was something he loved about them both.
Esme said nothing, her pale fingers drawing soft, lazy spirals along Senma's bronze skin. For a long moment she stayed like that, her cheek on Senma's shoulder, before she lifted her head into his field of vision. She pressed a gentle kiss to the muzzle's leather over his mouth, and he would've given the world to have the layer of leather and fabric removed. His eyes met hers, her hair hanging down over one shoulder in a curtain, and Senma felt strands tickling his nose, the scent of her hair wafting around him...
She distracted him like no other, and he knew she knew it. What was a sailor to a princess? A Shiplord to a Queen? A demigod of waves to a tamer of rivers?
Esme slowly removed the muzzle. "They didn't even use the built-in restraints." She glanced in slight disapproval at the chain net. Her fingertips ghosted across Senma's lips before plucking the massive wad of sodden fabric from his mouth.
"A shame they don't know how easy you made it for them to restrain me." Senma jabbed, though he couldn't bring himself to lob any true acid her way.
Esme straddled him, admiring the line of his jaw, before leaning over him. Teasing him by moving as if she would grant him the kiss he so desired, but stopping to press a well-concealed button on the headboard.
"Damn you." He whispered into her hair, and she laughed, before pushing his wrists into the fine leather cuffs springing from concealed chambers in the bedposts. She then freed him from the chain net with a silver knife, but he was already stuck.
She guided him into a sitting position, the cuff chains sliding up on tracks that had been well concealed in the posts, locking them in place in slots among the slats making up the bed's canopy while not concealing the mosaic above.
Senma now balanced on his knees, wrists chained up above his head and spread out, as she used the knife to cut away what was left of his prisoner tunic, leaving his torso bare.
"Do I still please you, Princess?"
"You're still far too cocky."
"Well, can't help that. I'm a shower."
"Churl."
"Tease."
She burst into laughter, and he chuckled along, his heart thrilling when she leaned into him.
"If I'd known bondage was what it took to earn your affection, Lady, I'd have begged to be your pet long ago." Senma sighed. She nuzzled into his neck again.
"I wouldn't have let you. It'd be a crime to keep you from the sea."
"Not if I was at the mercy of something just as implacable. Being at your feet... a man would never miss the sea."
"Damn you." Esme groaned. "You might've thought about telling me this years ago. Or spiriting me away from this castle when we first met."
"I did think about it." Senma admitted. "But you needed... no, you deserved the chance to choose for yourself. You need no husband to order you about or king to dictate your fate. I would gladly fight all your battles, Esme - but you would not thank me for it."
Esme looked at him in something resembling wonder, and no small amount of mingled frustration and pleasure. "I suppose you really are a demigod."
"And you have befriended metal, haven't you?" Senma grinned. "Imprisoned men and made it grab them for you."
"You mean the magnetic plates? Yes... I have learned to speak to metal, I think."
"That's my Princess." He gave into the instinct, reaching to draw her into a hug before groaning in irritation at the restraints. "Are these truly necessary?"
She moved close, embracing him, letting him bury his face in her hair the way he wanted. Esme pressed their skin together, and kissed his chest. He almost felt greedy for wanting more, and then he did his best to surrender.
She smiled up at him. "Well, King of the Waves... I think you've languished long enough."
"I quite agree, Queen of the Rivers."
She laughed at him then, before she retreated to the writing desk, where she had laid a small package. From it, she withdrew a straight razor. "Time to tame whatever that thing on your face is."
"You don't like my rascal's beard?"
She giggled. "I'll try to get it to something nearing rascally, I promise."
He flexed in the restraints, as if he had any power. "I'll hold you to that."
"I hope you do." She whispered, before she kissed him, deep and passionate as the ocean.
Or cuff talk? 
