eyesbehindus

[eyesbehindus]

Choi (PC) x Kylar at the beach 🏖

[eyesbehindus]

Whitney - Underground brothel

508 words. Two in one day, look at me go. Typical DoL warnings apply, and implications of swarms.

They’d lost track of how long it’d been.

Eat. Sleep. The lights come on.

At first, they tried to fight back. They always were a fighter, after all – but they’d never realised just how weak they truly were.

The lights shut off.

They’d take what little comforts they could get. On day one they curled up on their mattress, and while they tried to be strong, it wasn’t long before they started to cry. Choked sobs echoed in their cell as they wept, and when they fell asleep it wasn’t long before someone slammed on their cell door.

Eat. Sleep. The lights come on.

They always had a group. Every time they fought, someone was there to back them up. They took that for granted, and god, they hated that they did. The auctions were terrible – not only because of what happened when they were picked, but because being with the other victims reminded them of their friends.

The lights shut off.

By day twelve they had no more tears to cry. They just laid there, willing their body to sleep. At least then they could dream of being somewhere else.

Eat. Sleep. The lights come on.

The first time they saw the camera, they screamed. They kicked, they fought, they did everything they could with strength they didn’t know they had, and yet it still wasn’t enough. They don’t even cover their face any more – they just pray that they won’t use the worms.

The lights shut off.

They think of their friends. Even the ones they knew hated them. They think of all the awful things they did to that orphan kid, and how they’d never felt an ounce of regret. On day thirty-two, for the first time in a long while, they cry. It doesn’t make them feel any better.

Eat. Sleep. The lights come on.

Dancing was awful. They barely bothered, just forcing a smile and flaunting what they had. If someone picked them, they might at least be gentle.

The lights shut off.

They don’t think about their family now, or their friends. There’s no point. Sometimes, late at night when they can’t sleep, they think of the people they hurt. Kylar – they always bullied them. Sydney, too. They shouldn’t have. Kylar never hurt anyone, and Sydney helped anyone they could. Maybe they deserve this. On day sixty, they didn’t sleep.

Eat. Sleep. The lights come on.

The hunts were the worst of all. The first time it happened, they actually had hope. They ran as fast as they could – they almost made it, even. But they tripped. At least that time it was just a regular client.

The lights shut off.

Everything hurts. They don’t know what day it is any more. They hope tomorrow is an auction day. They’re usually nicer, and they’ll get to feel a real bed.

On day one-hundred, they gave up.

Eat. Sleep. The lights come on.

The lights shut off.

The lights come on.

The lights shut off.

The lights come on.

Their light shuts off.

#degrees of lewdity #whitney the bully #dol whitney #dol #angst #degrees of lewdity whitney

[eyesbehindus]

DoL: Kylar - Voyeurism

1025 words. Typical DoL warnings apply.

Kylar stared at the monitor, their eyes fixated on the gloom of their beloved’s room. She had been acting off all day, and so they had committed their time to making sure she was safe (something his parents weren’t particularly fond of, but still) and had followed her from dawn until dusk.

He had watched them pull their hood up, a face mask helping to conceal their identity as they weaved through the crowd. He followed as best he could, and just barely caught them slip into that new shop down on Elk street. It opened up recently, and he knew that they had helped (they were always so kind, even though those other bastards didn’t deserve it) but they had never seemed this nervous about entering it before. After a long few minutes they exited, bag in hand. That was all he needed to see – surely, his soulmate had gotten him a gift! And he knew he shouldn’t peek, but he just couldn’t help himself. He’d always been that way. (Though thinking about that made him think of Sydney, so he quickly cast those thoughts aside.)

After what felt like hours she finally walked into her room, bidding goodbye to that little fucking manwhore friend of theirs (Robin? Rachel? He doesn’t care to remember.) and he watched as they shut the door and rushed to their bed. They quickly dug through the bag and pulled out… a bottle. He recognised that bottle. It was same type he used to… practice with his doll. His eyes narrowed as he leaned closer, and she reached back in to pull out a dildo. His hands clenched into fists as he watched, a burning jealousy coursing through him. The rational part of his brain told him that he was being ridiculous, that there was no reason to be jealous over a piece of plastic, but the other 99% of his brain screamed with an unmatched rage and envy that he should be there getting her off, that he should be the one to make them cum and that HE should be the one they remember as the first one to fill them. Not some filthy fucking piece of shit toy.

And yet, some part of him liked this.

After all, he was the one who’d get to see this before anyone else – no, the only one who’d ever get to see this. He wasn’t going to let anyone defile her with their eyes. And after all, they… might need the training, given his prodigious size. So he sat, and resolved to watch.

His hands trailed down as theirs did, unbuttoning his trousers and shimmying them down as she pressed her dildo against her entrance. They looked so unsure, and god, he wished he could be there to hold them as they coated it in lube and lined it up. His hands wrapped around his cock as she attempted to push it in, only for it to slide away. She huffed and pouted, one of her cutest traits if you asked him, and applied more lube – a far more generous amount this time – and pushed it in.

They sucked in a sharp breath, their free hand gripping their mattress tight as they adjusted to the sensation. Kylar grabbed some lube and readied himself, silently wishing he’d gotten his doll. He supposed he could get it now, but then he’d have to stop watching, and that just wasn’t happening. So instead he slowly stroked up and down his length as his love started to pump the toy into themselves. They couldn’t take much of it, but they were trying their best. Every now and then they’d glance at the door or their window, and their eyes would sweep across his camera; it was a challenge to hold back when that happened. He willed himself to last, not wanting to miss a second of this, and maintained an agonisingly slow pace as she gently fucked herself. Her eyes were screwed shut now, and she brought her other hand to her clit and started to massage it. A moan slipped past her lips, though she quickly bit her lip and stifled it.

He sped up, his stroking now reaching a decent pace as she did the same; she went faster, deeper, harder. Despite their best efforts, he could just about hear small gasps and moans permeate the silence. She was fast approaching her peak, said moans getting louder and her actions losing their rhythm somewhat – Kylar followed suit, starting to moan himself as pre-cum leaked from his tip and coated his shaft. With every moan she let out his dick throbbed, jumping in his grip slightly as he felt his own climax build up; and just as he reached a point where he couldn’t hold it any more, she screamed out suddenly and arched her back as her orgasm overtook her. He watched as her toes curled, as her face twisted in pleasure and her body shook while held her new toy deep inside her, and he let go.

He let out a pathetic, whimpering cry as his orgasm overloaded his senses, cum shooting out in thick ropes and landing on his desk and hoodie. His hands continued their ministrations, coaxing out every last drop he had before he fell limp in his chair, panting. He looked at the screen, seeing her in much the same state – she was splayed out on her bed, deep breaths helping to still her shaking body. Her eyes snapped open as someone hammered on her door, and she quickly covered herself. He barely made out the words, fatigue washing over him – whoever she was speaking to didn’t sound happy. Probably that caretaker.

After allowing himself a few more minutes of rest he forced himself up, cleaning up the mess he’d made and clicking out of the spy-cam (but not before saving the past half-hour as a video. He’d edit it down later.) Once all was said and done, he made his way to the bathroom and cleaned himself up before sitting back down and idly wondering how often she’ll do this.

He can’t wait for tomorrow.

#dol #degrees of lewdity #dol kylar #degrees of lewdity kylar #kylar the loner #dol smut

[eyesbehindus]

Avery - Comfort

Not a happy drabble. Typical DoL warnings apply.

It has been twenty minutes since the knocking started.

When Avery moved out here, he figured he’d picked a good spot. A nice, quiet area with a community that minds their own, and no solicitors. (And, of course, a big house and nice driveway for his car.)

And yet here he was, silently wishing death upon whoever was still sporadically knocking away at one in the morning.

He sighed, a light pain starting to throb in the back of his head. They clearly weren’t going to leave. With great effort he willed himself to his feet, grabbing his gown as he made his way to the entryway. He’d answer the door, take note of their face and name, and let the police deal with it in the morning. Simple enough plan, and he’d be able to get back to his beauty sleep.

That plan, of course, fell through when he opened the door to see his favourite piece of arm candy standing there.

They looked… well, there wasn’t a much better way to put than ‘terrible’. Their clothes were soaked through with rain, their eyes were hollow and empty, and they barely even reacted to the door being opened. After a few moments, they lowered the hand they’d been knocking with and looked up at him.

They stared at each-other for a long moment, neither making the first move. After a while, though, they tried to speak. At least, Avery had to assume that’s what they tried to do. What actually happened was they made a strangled noise and proceeded to hack up a mixture of fluids – rainwater, spit, bile, and… semen? He quickly stepped back, letting it land at their doorstep.

“...come in.”

He made a mental note to contact their cleaner for an additional session as water dripped all over the place and quickly rushed to grab them a towel. They barely accepted it, just shuffling into him slightly as he reluctantly wrapped and secured it around them. Once they weren’t ruining the floorboards any more, he checked the door was shut and led them to a chair. He lit the (electric) fireplace, sitting down opposite them as another silence fell over them – Avery had never been much for comforting. Still, they did like this one (perhaps more than they’d like to admit) and didn’t particularly want to push them away. So, he tried.

“What… happened?”

No response.

Not particularly surprising, but still. He watched as they stared into the screen, the fake fire flickering as the heater slowly warmed them. They’d stopped shaking, at least – something Avery didn’t even realise he was keeping track of until he felt a small amount of relief wash over him. They sat in silence for a while longer, the only sounds being the tick of the clock and the speaker placed by the fire, filling the room with the sound of wood crackling. Once ten more minutes had passed, he was about to try again when they stood up, head hanging low as they slowly approached him. In the light, he could now see a myriad of bruises on their legs and a dark ring around their eye. He shuddered to think what the towel was concealing. Once they were close enough, they practically fell into him – he barely caught them as they rested against his chest. “...darling?” is all he was able to say before they began to sob.

He stared at them in barely disguised shock, his arms frozen above them as tears started to stain his gown. After a long moment he hesitantly wrapped them around the small, shaking body pressed against him – and like this, he truly realises just how small they are. Their tiny, frail frame shakes with each shuddering breath, and he realises that their sobs and hiccups are strangled words. He picks out something about a brothel, and clients, and makes a mental note to tip off the police about Briar later.

It hurts to see them like this. It hurts because he hates being this attached, and he hates not knowing what to do. So he holds them, knowing that next week they’ll be out on another date, and they can pretend everything is fine again.

For however long it lasts.

#dol #degrees of lewdity #avery the businessperson #avery the businessman #avery dol #not the happiest with this but. eh