Interlude in the Lower City (Pt. 1)
You know what? I have a rather active imagination sometimes, and my girlfriend Vul is such an enabler, you know? After she sort of… opened the door to a bit of humiliation and restraint, my imagination went ‘whee’ and started taking me in directions I didn’t know I wanted to go.
This is another in what may or may not become a series of stories about my inevitable, delightful descent into depravity.
Content warning: This story is NSFW. It contains angsty tieflings, consensual violence, restraints, and a few naughty things.
“You seem… distracted tonight, Diotima.” Runar says, offhandedly.
“Yeah, sorry.” “It’s just been… I’ve been stuck here for two fucking weeks already. I wanted to be home already, not wasting my time here, watching the gods damned little time I have get whittled away by fucking snow, of all things. I guess like, whatever.” She rolls her eyes, waving her own empty glass at the window dismissively, attempting to make light of the situation. The underlying edge to her voice and the subtle clenching of her jaw, though, give her true feelings form. She’s furious… at the feeling of helplessness, at her own impotence, at… well, at everything.
“Is it?” Runar asks, raising an eyebrow. He senses the bitterness in her voice, the anger.
She half turns, amber eyes flashing with annoyance. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what, Diotima? Care about my friend?” Runar probes, trying to draw the young woman out. Though their encounters are infrequent, they’re friends… more than friends, truth be told. The three of them… Dio, Vul, and Runar… had an interesting arrangement. Diotima had jokingly called him a ‘part time boyfriend’ and he supposed that was as accurate a description as any. “I’m allowed that, don’t you think?”
Diotima huffs, giving her friend and sometimes lover another irritated look. “Okay you know what, I’m not in the mood to be… whatever, analyzed. Maybe I’ll see you before I finally get to leave, if I ever get to fucking leave. I know where to find you if I want you.” She moves to stand, a bit unsteady on her feet after the two glasses of wine she drained in rapid succession.
“Sit, you’re not going anywhere tonight.” Runar replies. If he’s hurt by her casual dismissal, he doesn’t show it. “It’s nearly twelve bells, the streets are covered in snow and ice, and you’re…” he considers for a moment. “Not drunk, but not entirely sober, either.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” Dio snaps, glaring.
Runar meets her glare, calm. “I’m asking you to stay. I’d rather not explain to Vul that I let her drunk, angry wife wander into a snowstorm.”
She glares for a moment, wanting nothing more than to argue. But she knows he’s right, as infuriating as it feels. “Fine! Fine...” Lowering herself back into the chair, steadying herself with her hand, she adds “Not like I have a choice, not really.”
“Is my company truly that terrible?” He asks, attempting to lighten the mood.
Dio rolls her eyes and scoffs, though there’s not much venom in it. “Shut up, you know it isn’t that. But… I haven’t seen Vul for almost half a year, dude. You’ve seen her what, three, four times to my none? And THIS-” She gestures again to the falling snow “-utter bullshit is threatening to take away what little time I have.” As is often the case when she is upset, her native dialect colors her words.
Runar considers her over the rim of his wineglass. “Twice, actually.” He replies. “Does that bother you?” His tone is light, but it is a serious question. Their arrangement is built on the consent of everyone involved, so if she is growing jealous…
“Oh fuck off.” Diotima replies, cracking a half smile. “It’s not that at all. I’m glad you two have fun. Really really. Hells, dude, I even suggested-”
“I remember.” He smiles back. “You were right. She did enjoy that, yes.”
Dio shrugs, perhaps a little smug. “Told you she would.”
“You did.” Runar agrees. He toasts her, sipping his wine. “I surprised myself by enjoying it too.”
“Yeah? Well, that’s going to live rent free in my dreams, thanks. And-” She huffs “-stop trying to cheer me up, asshole. I’m trying to be pissed off and you’re like… fucking it all up. I want to be angry, I want to be furious right now, I just… I need. I don’t know, to hit something.”
“Would that make you feel better?” He asks, seriously. “We can try that if you like?”
“What, hit you? No. I don’t want to hit you.” She replies with a short laugh. “I’m not… I don’t… that’s a terrible idea, especially tonight. “I mean, if you want to slap me around a little, though, like… sure. I’ve been a bitch all night, I probably deserve it.” She intends it as both a flippant joke and an apology, but as she says it, she wonders if maybe she wouldn’t mind that, after all.
“Would that help?” Runar replies, softly. “With… everything?”
After a moment, Her cheeks flushed, Dio responds.. “Yeah. I think it would.”
-—
“Hey. I changed my mind, okay?” Dio says, struggling against the ropes that bind her to the chair. “I don’t… untie me right the fuck now.”
Runar, standing over her, considers the request. “No.” He replies simply. “Because you’re lying to me.” He grabs her chin, tilting her head up, meeting her gaze. “Good girls tell the truth.”
“Good gi- oh fuck OFF, don’t call me that you fucker.” Dio snaps, jerking her chin free. “I said untie me, right n-”
A light slap, administered to the foul mouthed tiefling’s cheek. “I’ll call you what I please.” He says, conversationally. “Remember, you wanted this. Now, behave.”
“Haah…” An exhale of breath as she winces, more out of the shock of being stuck than anything else. “Hn…” The sensation is… interesting, the helplessness adding to the allure. “...bastard.”
“So she likes it.” Runar says, crouching to eye level, gently mocking. “Tough, competent Diotima, helpless and enjoying every moment.”
“Fuck you…” She breathes. “I am not, you bastard.”
“Diotima.” Runar says, crouching to her eye level. “I told you to tell the truth.” He slaps her again, hard enough to make her gasp. “I’ve warned you twice, don’t make me warn you a third time.”
“Oh, oh you… you motherfucker, I am going to KILL you, I am going to END you, you utter bastard.” She says, her words dripping with venom. When I get out, you’re fucking dead.” Her violent promises aside, her quickened breath, intensity of her gaze hint at the lie beneath the rage she is feigning.
“Such language. Must I gag you?” Runar teases. “I can, if that’s what you’re after.”
Fury… or something akin to it, glints in the reflective embers of her eyes. “…no. No, you utter bastard.” She’s glaring, flushed with embarrassment… at her helplessness, at the visceral reaction his ministrations are having, at knowing that he knows.
He slaps her again, across the other cheek, a small squeal elicited from her lips. “Then, truth. Do. You. Like. This?” Though he agreed to this to help his friend, he’s settling into this role, finding that he, too, enjoys this dynamic. He’s not the sort to hit someone, but this playacting satisfies something he did not know he needed.
“Fine! Yes! Okay!” She spits, glaring, her breathing shallow and her heart racing. “I… fuck you, yes… I…” A shuddery breath, then timidly, she replies. “….yeah.”
“Good girl.” He teases, enjoying the flare of anger in her eyes as the words leave his lips. “Say it.”
“What? No, I’m not fucking saying that, I-”
“You are.” He interrupts. “ I know you. You want to say it, don’t you? You enjoy it.” He leans forward, daring her to lie. “Tell the truth.”
“No…!” She spits, glaring. “I’m NEVER saying that agai-”
Runar’s hand connects with Dio’s face once more. Lost in the moment as he is, this time he fails to pull his swing.
Diotima, yelps in pain, as his hand connects with her cheek, head rocking sideways and lip split in the impact. “Aaah! Fuck!” She exclaims, scrunching her eyes shut, grimacing. “Fucking hells, dude, what the fuck…?” Her tongue darts out, tasting blood. “Ow.”
Runar, shocked for a moment, recovers enough of his senses to respond. “I’m so sorry, I got carried away and… are you alright? Hells, you’re bleeding.”
Probing her lip with her tongue again, she laughs, once. “Yeah, it’s… I’m fine. Fuck, you hit hard.”
“I was lost in our… game, I didn’t mean-” Runar begin, his voice laced with guilt.
Diotima interrupts, laughing. “I know. It’s fine, like… let’s be honest, I probably deserved it for being so utterly bitchy all night.”
“Let me see.” He leans forward, examining her injuries.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” She huffs. “Fine.” But, in her mind, a plan has emerged… it’s been… okay, it’s been months since she’s… well, anything, really. She’s trapped here, she’s angry, and she was honestly planning on… things happening, before she got caught up in her feelings.
So, as Runar’s fingers probe her lip, assessing the damage his over-enthusiasm has caused…
Dio bites him. Hard.
Continue the Story: Part 2