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How in the nine hells did you let yourself get talked into this. That devilish, silver-tongued elf of yours had made quick work of your resolve, stripped away all your hesitation (along with your clothes) and swiftly put you in your place, down on your hands and knees as his sweet, obedient pet.
Your skin prickles, hair standing on end as your naked form is left exposed to the night air, the gentle breeze caresses every inch of bare flesh. A collar is clasped around your neck, each inhale you take reminding you of its presence as your throat struggles against smooth leather. Naturally the handle at the end of your chain rests in the grip of Astarion.
“Come along pet, walkies!”
You can’t hold back a choked giggle, spluttering at the absurdity of such words leaving the same lips that usually sing such flawless, honeyed sentences. It’s enough to make your muscles relax, to forget for a moment that your most intimate areas are on full display to any and every set of eyes that could stumble upon the pair of you. His eyes narrow, but with a gentleness you can’t get enough of, not full of murderous delight, but instead where crow’s feet crease the corners of his eyes, ruby irises seeming to shift a shade brighter, and the ghost of a smile pulls at his lips.
You crawl to him, hips swaying just a little too much as you make a show of brushing the length of your body against his legs. He’s still clothed, teasing you endlessly with peeks of pallid skin when he moves, bends, every little movement exaggerated just enough to give you a glimpse. You rub your face against the smooth, soft fabric of his pants, stopping for a moment to bury your nose in him. It’s heavenly every time you catch his signature scent, the faintest traces of bergamot, dried rosemary and only the finest aged brandy still clinging to his clothes from their last wash.
He chuckles, sighing contently before that classic, mischievous gleam returns to his eyes, your body lurching forward, hands scrabbling to keep up with the fierce pull of the lead. You fall in step with him, clumsily crawling alongside him as best you can to keep up with his confident strides. He slows as you break the treeline beyond camp, his gaze watching you like a hawk as you carefully balance over snaking tree roots that scrape your knees and palms. You sigh in relief your skin touches soft grass, happily falling in line again. He stops, having brought you to your special place, a small break in the trees where moonlight bathes your forms in gentle light, just the two of you in a pocket of serenity.
“Sit up pet,” you follow his words without hesitation, popping up onto your knees, curling your hands like paws, “There you go, exactly like I taught you darling, absolutely perfect.”
You whine before you even realise the noise is coming from your mouth, a pathetic, needy sound accompanied by a rush of heat settling in your gut. Your hips shake and you’re sure if you had a tail it would be wagging wildly, almost vibrating in excitement. Your thoughts are interrupted by his smile, how his fangs catch the light, how you wish they were buried in your throat and drinking you to delirium.
“Now. Give me your paw pet. Show me how we shake hands.”
You rest your curled fist in his extended hand, looking adoringly and expectantly at his face, searching for the approval that makes your blood sing and thoughts start to fade into nothing but blissful static. His smile only widens, nodding with a condescending hum that makes your head spin. He tilts his head, tapping his jaw with his free hand before unclipping your leash from your collar. He points to the ground and mimes a circle, a silent command you’ve rehearsed time and time again in the plush blankets of your shared bed.
You eagerly let yourself fall back in the grass, paws and legs up before rolling onto your stomach, quickly continuing to follow through and roll onto your back again. You’re smiling at him, hair a tangled mess and grass staining your skin, but you don’t care. You’d do anything he asked. You’re addicted to his approval.
“That’s right sweetie, just like that. I’ve taught you well.”
You surge forward, lapping his hand lovingly and laving every inch of his skin in saliva. He fakes a look of disgust, sneering and pulling his hand away before rolling his eyes, chuckling fondly and ruffling your hair. He buries his fingers in your hair, gripping against your scalp tightly and pulling your head back, tilting your chin up and turning you side to side. His gaze is ravenous, starving as he all but examines you. He pulls you up to meet him in a kiss that’s all teeth, desperate and clumsy, but deliciously perfect. His nostrils flare, no doubt the scent of your arousal spurring him on to deepen the kiss.
He pulls away, holding you in place. In that pause you notice the warmth in your gut was more than just your body yearning for more of his touch. Your bladder aches, painfully ignored in your anticipation for tonight. It’s uncomfortable, edging towards burning as you hold back the urgent need to relieve yourself. You’re frozen, thoughts scattering. The word you know you need to utter dies in your throat, a pathetically soft hum being all it takes for his eyes to shift in their focus. He can read you all too well.
“Speak pet.
“Yellow.”
He immediately pulls you to your feet, firm but gentle as he holds you against his chest. He changes so quickly, searching your face for discomfort, hesitation, any little sign that something’s happened, that he’s done something wrong. You hate how his forehead wrinkles in worry, you know the doubts that plague his thoughts so easily. You cup his cheeks, kissing his lips with the utmost care. Your cheeks flush with hot embarrassment, your voice only a whisper.
“I need to pee.”
He's dead still, brows raised incredulously before he breaks into full laughter. He shakes his head, running a hand through that silk soft, white hair you could fiddle with for hours. He takes deep breaths despite not needing them, calming himself. It’s almost scary how quickly his gaze flicks from concern to mirth to that dangerous shine warning you of his sadistic intentions. Before you can blink your leash is clicking back in place.
“No need for drama darling, you can simply go here.”
Your throat goes dry, eyes shooting wide open as your left breathless. For the umpteenth time your brain is effortlessly reduced to a fuzzy, dazed mess by your vampire.
“Give me a colour pet.”
You bury your face in his neck, kissing and nipping up his throat. He has his signature smirk, chuckling softly as he threads his fingers through your hair. You rest your lips against his ear.
“Green.”
He only smirks wider, running his tongue along his teeth. He caresses your hair adoringly before tapping his thigh twice.
“Come darling, on your knees.”
You sink to all fours before he even finishes his sentence, shakily following his guide to a lone tree stump overtaken by grass and moss. He sits, kicking one leg over the other and gesturing to the ground beneath his feet.
“Go on, show me just how good of a pet you are for me. Just mind my shoes darling.”
A test. A challenge. You can’t screw this up. You’d never hear the end of it.
Your whole body is heated, trembling as your turn with your side to him. You cock your leg up much like you’ve seen Scratch do countless time, though much less practiced with your shaking legs. You screw your eyes shut, willing your bladder to relax and do what your master has asked of you. You hold your breath, tears of frustration starting to bead at the corner of your eyes after what feels like years of straining. You startle when a hand finds your back, Astarion’s soothing fingers stroking your back.
“It’s okay darling, just focus on my voice. This is natural for pets like you, it’s what you were made for. You can do it darling, give yourself the relief you deserve.”
He's cooing such sweet words as he kneads circles into your shoulders, the effect almost instant as all you focus on are those reassuring words, he sings softly for you. You gasp as the damn opens, mouth hanging open as you finally pee like the well-behaved pet you are, stray droplets trickling down your inner thigh into the blades of grass. It’s bliss, that painful ache making way for a strange pleasure blooming in your crotch. Your mind is quiet, vaguely registering his hand moving to pet your hair and scratch behind your ears.
“Oh my, you deserve a reward, I’m so very pleased with you darling. You performed perfectly.”
You wiggle in a half-hearted attempt to clear away the mess of wetness coating your lower body, shaking your hips in earnest at his praise and adoration. You prop yourself on your knees, nuzzling into his knees, settling between his thighs and feeling pride fill your heart at the sight of his shoe staying perfectly dry. What a cute pet becoming, all glowing and excited over not pissing on your owner.
“And it looks like they enjoyed the show too. Not surprising, just look at you darling. You’re ravishing.”
You bolt up, cheeks aflame as you spot the nearby silhouettes of your campmates hidden in the treeline, expressions undiscernible in the lowlight.
“You should’ve heard how their hearts quickened at the sight of you pet, they just couldn’t keep their eyes off you. Maybe we should have you become the camp pet, parade you around like this all the time?”
The noise that leaves you is a strangled sound halfway between a groan and a squeal, burying your face in his lap and slapping his sides. You feel his body shake with his laughter. If only you’d had your head up you would’ve seen how the terrifying glare he throws at your campmates and how they quickly scattered from sight. They never would be able to look at you the same way again, but they’ll keep their looks to themselves if they want to keep their eyes. Astarion will make sure of it <3