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blackgirl0nline · 27 days

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Feyd Rautha- “Warrior Sexuality”

Exploring the intimate effects of culture through a focused analysis of Dune Part Two

CW: discussion of Feyd Rautha’s abuse at the hands of his uncle

In “Ur-Fascism” (Eternal Fascism) by Umberto Eco there is a paragraph on fascist sexuality that I think applies to Feyd Rautha

First, a minor note that I’m not exactly saying the Harkonens are fascistic only that this comparison came about because of the black sun that the Harkonen homeworld (Geidi Prime) orbits, which produces a black-and-white world of harsh politics where only those cruel enough to grasp power are rewarded.

This is a world where you are either powerful or weak- and to gain that power you must be harshly cruel. Additionally, this is a slave culture with a clear and degraded underclass whose lives are on the line every second of their existence in the Harkonen sphere. This is a warrior culture with cruelty at its heart. So how is Feyd Rautha’s sexuality informed by this setting?

Eco says, “since both permanent war and heroism are difficult games to play, the Ur-Fascist transfers his will to power to sexual matters,” So, Eco is focusing on the transfer of cruelty from the political to the most intimate realm. From the most public sphere to the private.

He goes on to say “This is the origin of machismo (which implies both disdain for women and intolerance and condemnation of nonstandard sexual habits, from chastity to homosexuality).” Notice this disdain is why Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam even sends Margot Fenring in the first place. Mohaim is a motherly figure. That Feyd murdered his mother (with seemingly no consequences) implies a very degraded place for women in this society

Consider there are no non-slave Harkonen women we can see. No wives, mothers, sisters. Only the Benegesserit- with their independent power are unharmed. Feyd still holds a knife to Lady Fenring’s neck, she still has to prove herself powerful enough to overtake him.

This is the only way normative sex happens on Geidi Prime- one partner must overpower the other. Love cannot exist here- as it necessitates an interpersonal equality of partners. Even a parent-child love is not possible. Feyd must kill his mother, the same way he almost kills his brother and threatens to kill his uncle.

This is also the reason for his “sexual vulnerability” from the books due to his uncle abusing him. The kiss he forces on his uncle should not be seen as loving. All Harkonen sexuality is domination. Attempting to gain power over his uncle in the same way he abused Feyd.

Eco finishes with “Since even sex is a difficult game to play, the Ur-Fascist hero tends to play with weapons — doing so becomes an ersatz phallic exercise.”

Here I bring your focus on Feyd's knives and his seeming ecstasy in fighting. He caresses his knives and licks them. There is something almost overtly sexual about his relationship with them. They’re introduced in the same scene as his cannibal harpies.

Off topic but are the cannibal harpies also sexually involved with Feyd? He calls them his “darlings” offers them gruesome gifts, and they seem to lounge in a sort of happiness?

They still take on the position of pets, they’re dressed the same, look the same, and never speak like the other slaves. But they seem prized in a sense. They eat human flesh- and so perhaps possess their own deadliness - and from that earn Feyd’s… adoration? Food for thought.

But the “ersatz phallic exercise” is first practiced in the scene when he offers his "darlings" flesh. There are many coital details before the battle. Consider the black paint across his naked body. Showing off his form as a vehicle for war. Nothing carnal is far from brutality.

Even his seduction by Margot Fenring- that he threatens her with that phallic object- that she says he “craves pain” right after he faces the Gom Jabar. There is some sort of sadomasochistic itch. Lastly, consider the intimacy of battle. When he fights the “last Atreides.” Seeing that his opponent is not drugged, he removes his shield. He makes himself vulnerable (also notice the slightly vulvic entrance to the arena like he’s participating in something vital/ sexual).

Perhaps because he craves pain, and the threat of an equal opponent is made more exciting if that equal opponent can equally harm him (note at the end how close the two are as Feyd holds him to his chest- the smile and wink in at his opponent the refusal of outside interference).

In conclusion, Feyd participates in Umberto Eco’s “ersatz phallic exercise,” as a natural extension of Harkonen cruelty infecting every sphere. That’s also why I found this post especially true to the character there is something very inherently sexual about Feyd’s relation to fighting.

Thanks to my Twitter mutuals who asked me to put this in a more readable format, so I got to clear up some spelling and punctuation errors in the original thread.

If you enjoyed this piece consider buying me a coffee here: https://ko-fi.com/bakhita

#feyd rautha #dune part 2 #dune movie #dune 2 #feyd rautha harkonnen #house harkonnen #margot fenring #geidi prime #austin butler #frank herbert #i cant stop thinking about his bald head

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anjelicawrites · 8 days

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Pierced Through

Paring: modern!Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Synopsis: a late night between two lovers

Warnings: switch!Feyd, switch!reader, more dominant reader, kissing, oral (m and f receiving), p in v sex, kissing, biting, scratching, overstimulation, edging, fingering, titty pinching, titty sucking, sharing the same piercings as a form of love, getting pierced as a form of foreplay, loads of piercings, reader being called “good girl” a couple of times.

A/N 1: reader is AFAB, the only descriptor is that they have long hair, for plot reasons. Where needed, they/them pronouns used.

A/N 2: this is a modern AU with random bits of our pop culture thrown in it.

Squinting your eyes you start to remove the makeup from your face. It has been a sweet night out, you and Feyd finally alone, eating a nice meal and just walking around town to enjoy the soft spring, after a harsh, snowy winter, reconnecting after he’s been away for work.

You ignore the chiming of your phone, it’s either the group chat with the girls, or the one you have with Feyd’s exes, the self called Harpies.

“Is What If I Were Your Mother buzzing tonight?”

“Oh, you need to keep yourself up to date baby, it’s Pick Me, Choose Me, Love Me now.”

“Am I supposed to get the reference?” Even without eyebrows you can see the muscles lift in silent judgment.

“Grey’s Anatomy baby. You watched it with me.”

“I dissociated most of the times.”

“Asshole.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Feyd’s hands travel slowly up the silk of your nightgown and stop under your breasts, the whiteness of his skin contrasts with the black material hugging your curves; you love wearing colorful clothes and decorate your shared apartment had been a push and pull between his monochrome austerity and your explosive personality, you’ve only folded to his request that you wear black lingerie for him (that you use truly ridiculous stuff when he’s not around it’s a secret between you and the two group chats).

You lean against his naked chest, letting your head brush against the long column of his neck, reveling in the smoothness of his skin; you miss having beard burns between your legs, your Feyd makes up for it with the bite marks he leaves on your skin when he hungers for your taste, which is always.

“I know you’ve been a bad girl.” He drawls in your ear, part of his face hidden by your hair.

“You need to be more specific than that, ah!”

Feyd’s long fingers pinch your pierced nipples through your nightgown; he was with you when you had both done, he had kept his forehead against yours while the nice lady piercer did her part.

He had kept the low rumble of his voice to a minimum, describing how he was going to pleasure you as a reward for your courage; you were so torn between fear and excitement that you didn’t really listen to him and if the lady piercer did, she ignored him.

Now you two match and it drives you crazy that under the expensive clothes he wears at work, Feyd hides similar body mods to yours; you haven’t gotten used to yours yet and even if your nipples have healed nicely, they’ve become more sensitive, and Feyd loves using this against you.

“I’ve noticed the new books on your beside table, little dove.”

His hands cup your breasts, chocking the answer in your throat.

“I… I have no idea what you’re talking about!” You try to keep hold of his stare through the mirror. “I’ve moved some old books I want to read ouch! Ah! Feyd please!”

Feyd’s fingers pinch the small barbells on your nipples, only to pull at them until you start whining pathetically.

“Do you really think I don’t know all the titles on you bookshelf, little dove? Britney Spears’s biography? Really?”

You don’t answer immediately, needing to catch your breath and he takes advantage of your silence to run the piercing on his tongue up your neck, his sharp eyes not missing the way your body trembles against his.

“Par condicio baby.” You finally manage to answer. “I have read her sister’s, now hers. I want to know every detail. All the tea, as the kids say.”

“You’re truly going to become the epitome of an old busybody.” He says, with genuine affection in his voice.

“And I will share everything with you. Because you are as curious as I am, my love.”

Gently, Feyd lets his hands run up your chest until he’s reached your head of hair.

Not only the Harkonnens, but all the natives of Geidi Prime have been genetically modified to not grow any sort of hair on their body and yours still fascinate him after all this time together. Whenever he can, he braids them before you two have to leave for work and he makes a point of undoing all your hairstyles when you are finally home, just so that he can feel the texture of your hair against his hands and the smell of your shampoo in his nostrils.

Painstakingly slowly Feyd removes all the pins from your hair, freeing each lock until they all cascade down your back and he can grab your roots, reveling in the feeling against his hands; you moan at the way he massages your scalp, slightly pulling to make you moan at his leisure.

Under the too bright bathroom lights he can absorb all your facial expressions, he can see your nipples push against the silk of your nightgown and his mouth waters at the thought that you must be wet already, for him.

Quick, so quick that your head spins, Feyd turns you around and sits you on the bathroom counter, back to the big mirror, the hem of your nightgown already brunched around your hips.

You don’t have the chance to realize what he’s doing that two of his fingers are already under your panties, playing with the wetness there; he can’t wait to accompany you to have your clit and labia pierced, this way you two will truly match (even though you can’t have your tongue done); you two will have to stop vaginal sex for a little while, but to the greater purpose of him torturing your pretty cunt for your shared pleasure.

“Up!” He orders and you comply, lifting your arse so that he can remove your lacy panties. “Good girl.” He drawls when you spread your legs for him even wider, to accommodate his huge frame.

“Are you going to take care of me, Feyd?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, electing to suck on the delicate skin of your tight, until he’s sure a nice mark will blossom; he loves keeping you on edge: perhaps he will torment you for his own pleasure, perhaps he will give it all to you, until the lines blur.

“Don’t I always, little dove?”

“I missed you, so much.” You say with a small voice, your hand cupping his smooth cheek.

“So I did you.”

There’s a dark smirk tinging his lips as he kneels between your parted tights, his big hands on your knees in a show of ownership that has your head spin and fall back against the cold mirror.

Feyd lips are so warm against your skin, and so soft as he kisses a slow path to your cunt, up, up he goes, until his hands can grab at your hips to still your movements and open your labia with his thumbs to make way for his long tongue.

His movements are slow, the barbell on his tongue cold against your clit as he slowly massages it, writing nonsense that has you keen already. He can’t help himself but suck gently when your ankles cross behind his head to keep him in place. Over the lecherous sounds of your pleasure he can her your nails scrape against the mirror in the vain attempt to gain control: not yet, now you are for him to torment.

His tongue slowly runs down to your hole and he moans at the honey he finds there: so much and all for him!

Hungry his tongue fucks you, the piercing stimulating all your nerves all the more, his big hands clench on your hips when you try to squirm away from his nose; on instinct you arch against his intrusion, your ankles pull him tighter against you as you wail your pleasure, small sobs like pain that spur him on all the more.

You come all over his face and keen when he starts sucking on your clit again, overstimulated and delirious you try to push him away, only for him to growl against your sensitive skin, triggering a smaller orgasm that shakes you.

Feyd stares at you with enlarged pupils, his face drenched in your sweetness, his cock torture against the cotton of his bottoms.

“Feyd, please.” You say breathless.

With a fluid motion he stands up and carries you bridal style to the bed, where he sits you to help you out of your nightgown, before discarding his soiled pajama trousers.

His pierced cock stands proud, leaking from the head; you were scared the first time you’ve seen it, imagining how painful it must have been for him, now you’ve come to love every single piece of jewelry adorning his manhood. From the Magic Cross on the head, to the small Frenulum ring, down to all the beadings on his shaft and the small ring on his perineum, you’ve kissed and played with all of them, tormenting Feyd, until he couldn’t understand if it was pleasure, or pain that triggered his orgasm.

You can’t wait to go with him, have your own privates worked on, while he adds the last beadings to complete the whole shaft: you know that sharing this will bind you tighter than the ring he will soon put on your finger, and it both excites and scares you to your core.

Feyd lays next to you to lazily kiss you, his soft lips on yours unhurriedly share your heady taste with you. His hands are in your hair, your nails are scratch down his back: you’re so hungry!

The ping of the received message interrupts you two.

“Ah shit! I think I need to answer this one.”

Feyd doesn’t say a word, he simply stares at you, his non existed brows raised.

“Baby this might be important. It’s Alia.”

Of all his Atreides relations, his little cousin is the only one he can truly stomach; he’s not happy that Chani is one of your oldest friends and that you hang out with her and Paul so much, yet he accepts your friendship with weird and off putting Alia.

“What happened with her?” He asks, curious.

“Let me check my phone and I will be able to tell you.”

With a huff Feyd goes to retrieve your phone and kneels between your splayed legs as you unlock your screen.

“There! I knew it!”

“What did she do?”

“Not her, the guy she was messaging with. He seemed so nice, too nice, if you know what I mean: he sent her a dick pick and us girls are discussing how to retaliate.”

“A dick pic?” Feyd looks sincerely puzzled. “Why?”

“You should ask your male friends. I know I hit the jackpot with you, but most of the guys out there are useless pieces of shit. Hang on, let me send this quick voice memo.” You say locking your ankles against his back to pull yourself up and kiss his nose.

“Girls, I say that the old fashioned guillotine gif is the best way to go. My favorite is the small one chopping off the wurst but I stand with whichever you want to send. Now I am going to disappear because I’m getting laid. Cheers girls!”

For the hundredth time, Feyd wonders what horrors that chat contains; he is not sure his Harkonnen upbringing has prepared him to face them. A whole host of women let loose without any sort of filter? No thank you!

Using his own lack of concentration, you roll the two of you, straddling his still erect cock; you raise your eyebrow at him and he just shrugs: horrified or not, you’re still naked and he hasn’t come yet.

“Fuck yourself on my cock, little dove.” He drawls.

“Not so fast, baby. You had your fun.”

When he tries to roll the two of you again, you grab his wrist and push them against the mattress and ground your naked cunt against the ridges of his cock. From your vantage point you stare at Feyd: you know he can easily manhandle you, he has done so many times, the fact that he’s letting you dominate him, that he is willingly submitting to you, drives you as dizzy and wild pleasure, as his pierced cock is.

Feyd hips kick under yours, the jewels on his manhood only enhancing the torment you’re subjecting him to, your wet, warm lips envelop his erection and he fancies he can feel your hole clench around nothing.

You straighten your back and grab at your own hair with a long moan of pleasure, Feyd’s hands grab your hips in retaliation, forcing you to move even faster on his erection; he only wished he had put weights on your nipples, just to hear you cry out in pain.

Abruptly you plant your hands on his chest to rub your engorged clit on one of the beads on his cock; the pleasure you feel makes all your muscles tremble with the effort to move, your orgasm so close, so close!

You come with a scream, your nails stabbing Feyd’s pectoral, triggering his own release between your lower lips and his muscled abdomen; he growls at the pleasure and at the frustration of not spending himself inside of you, feeling his balls draw up with the force if his orgasm.

You fall in his arms, breathing fast as you kiss all the available skin your lips can reach.

“I’m not done with you, Feyd-Rautha.” You growl in his ear.

The sound that escapes his mouth is a mix between a whine and a groan, his cock still hard and pressed between your bodies; under you his long back arches when you start making your way down the planes of his muscles, your lips finding the small rings on his nipples, your teeth pull at the metal until he keens, the small pain exploding in his engorged cock.

“Little dove.” He groans.

“None of that, my love. I’ve missed you so much.”

Feyd moans at the heath in your words: physically he’s the stronger one, yet he knows you could destroy him with a snap of your fingers.

A long litany of moans spill from his parted lips with every lick and small bite, he feels his balls draw up again, ready to spill.

“Not yet, Feyd. I want you to come inside of me.”

He growls when your hand curls around his base, your teeth pulling cruelly at the ring on his perineum as he writes on the black sheets: he’s so ready to explode for you, paint your insides with his thick cum.

You can feel his long legs scramble against the mattress when your lips find his frenulum ring, your tongue plays with the small piece of metal and the small strip of oversensitive skin; despite your cruel hold, small beads of precome bubble and slide from his cock, meeting your curious tongue.

His taste explodes in your mouth, making you ravenous as you suck on his pierced head with thirst, your teeth playing with the delicate skin; he tries to call your name when your nails rake down the skin of his tights, tortured sounds escape instead, pulled forth by your teeth pulling on one of the beads of the Magic Cross.

With a lewd pop you let his erection fall against his clenching abs, to give him a modicum of respite before attacking him again.

You rise to your knees, your body framed by his trembling legs, simply to observe your handiwork: the marks blooming on his delicate skin, his pupils completely expanded and fixed on the patch of hair between your legs and on the wetness he can see.

“Shall I sit on your face, or use your cock for all it’s worth?”

For a second Feyd can’t answer, his eyes mesmerized by your hands caressing your body and massaging your breasts: he needs to suck on your nipples, or he’ll go mad!

With disconnected movements he pats his hip and you laugh at the way need robs him of his preternatural coordination.

“Say it. I want to hear it!” You command, your fingers still pinching your nipples.

Feyd licks his lips; the room is so saturated with the smell of sex that he fancies he can still taste you on his lips.

Without breaking eye contact, Feyd growls low in his throat.

“Come and use your cock, little dove. I bet your cunt missed it.”

“I think it’s you who missed me more.” You say, crawling towards him. “What are you going to do while my new piercings will need to heal? Go mad with need?”

The idea of holding you while you get your clit pierced forces a shudder through his body: soon, it is going to be so soon!

“I can always play your arse.” He answers, burning with the need to breach you.

“You’ll have to beg better than that.” You say, flicking his engorged head and earning a lovely yelp of pain.

You position yourself on his cock, you are both so wet you don’t need any more preparation and your cunt welcomes him with a slight tremble.

Feyd’s hands clench on your hips to help you ride with gentle movements that have your clenching muscles slowly relax around his cock, sucking him in until you’re sitting fully on him, feeling every ridge and modification against the velvet of your walls.

To give him a full view, you put your hands on his raised knees and use him for leverage. Slowly you lift yourself up and down, making sure he sees his cock, drenched in your juices, disappear where you two meet with lewd squelching sounds.

You’ve thrown your head back, letting your hair touch his legs, and miss the way he looks at your body, how ravenous the sight of your combined comes around his base makes him.

He groans when you bounce faster on him, beads of sweat roll between your lush breasts and he tries to sit up to suck on them, but a tight squeeze of your hole deprives him of all strength.

“Tell me what you need, my love”. You ask, sitting firmly on his hips.

Feyd's hands clench on your hips, your cunt is strangling him so perfectly his eyes cross.

“You nipples…” He groans, almost in pain. “Let me suck on them!”

Nonchalant you cup your breasts and lightly pull on the rings, not missing the way Feyd's cock twitches inside of you.

“Do you want to suck on them? Cover all my skin with your marks?”

Feyd's body shakes under you, the wires in his head crossing with the need to taste you, and to come inside of you.

“Yes!” He manages to groan, as desperate as a drowning man.

Taking your sweet time to torment him, you push your weight forward and on your arms, your tits millimeters away from his hungry mouth; before he can latch his lips around one areola, you stop him.

“What if I make you choose between my breasts and coming, tonight? What's your priority?”

Feyd's fingers stab your hips with the desperation he feels: he needs both!

“You love my mouth on you, you never come as fast as when I fuck your cunt and pull on your rings.”

Desperate times need desperate moves.

Pensively you cup your breasts again and start moving slowly, the cacophony of moans and sobs spurring you on.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the powerful heir to his family fortune, reduced to a bitch in heat under you, begging for your body, beautiful in his need of you and of your guidance.

“I think you’re right, baby. There's nothing better than your cock in my cunt and your lips on my tits.”

You lay on him again, letting his mouth latch around one pert nipple as his hips piston desperately inside of you; as much as you’re trying to control yourself, the precipice of another orgasms is closer and closer, aided by the delicious mods on Feyd's cock against your quivering walls, hitting everywhere all at once, battering all your nerves without mercy while his teeth worry and pull at your pierced nipple: pain and pleasure a blur in your mind and in his.

Feyd's hips ram faster and faster against your G spot, spurred as he is by your show of dominance and control over him; he can barely contain himself when you squeeze tighter than ever. You haven't ordered him, yet: he can't come without your permission.

“Now Feyd!”

Your barked order dissolves any control he has on himself: grabs you and pulls you tight against his hips and comes, triggering your own orgasm.

You grind against him, prolonging your shared pleasure until it hurts and you have to let his softened cock slip from your cunt.

You can feel his thick cum slide from your overused cunt and you shudder on him, he simply cages you against his strong body until he feels your body relax.

His hand goes to your head to knead the long tresses, one of his favorite post sex rituals as you leave butterfly kisses all over the marks on his neck.

“You OK baby?” You whisper gently against his skin.

“Yes, stay.” He adds when you try to go to the bathroom.

“We're sticky, baby.”

“You smell like me. Let me enjoy it.”

You recognize his tone, he needs to be held more to ground himself back into control.

“I'm not going anywhere. Come here.”

You tell him and he simply puts his head against your chest, letting himself be cradled by you.

“Let's chill, OK? I missed you.”

He doesn't answer but you can detect how heavy his breathing is: he's going to fall asleep soon and you let yourself follow him.

#fey rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha x y/n #feyd rautha harkonnen x y/n #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen

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