Pining For You - Abbott/Turnbull/Pyne
Oct. 28th, 2009 03:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolfanficsTitle: Pining For You
Author: Sashataakheru
Fandom: Australian Politics RPS
Starring: Tony Abbott, Christopher Pyne, Malcolm Turnbull
Pairings: Abbott/Pyne, Abbott/Turnbull, Turnbull/Pyne
Word Count: 966
Prompt: 041 – BDSM for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
citrus_taste (table)
Warnings: D/s themes, oral sex, anal sex, drag/cross-dressing
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: Not true in any way, shape or form.
Author’s Notes: Rhys Muldoon is a Very Bad Influence and should not tweet Question Tiem in such a slashy manner. XD
Summary: Taken in by Turnbull and Abbott, mincing poodle dandy Pyne is rather eager to please.
Pining For You
He stood up straight, eyes firmly fixed on the wall opposite. Who was he? Not Chris. Christopher. That was his name, said with such disdain and disgust by Abbott. Abbott preferred Poodle. Thought it suited him better. Reminded him of how pissweak he was. That’s all Christopher was, a stupid pretty little poodle with no bark. He knew better than to talk back. Christopher cringed as Abbott mussed up his hair in a rough manner, digging his fingers into his skull.
“Even that makes you look like a poofter. There’s no helping some people,” Abbott spat, turning away from him.
“I do think that sometimes you’re too harsh on the boy,” Turnbull said.
“Like you can talk. You know it’s only a matter of time before you’re out of here,” Abbott said. “Shut up and keep out of this. You said I could discipline him. Let me do things my way.”
Turnbull bowed meekly and stepped back, watching them from a seat in the corner. It was a strange sight, if he was perfectly honest with himself. Christopher had been stripped naked and left in make-up, women’s lingerie, and red heels, and manacled to the cold wall behind him. Abbott paced like an impatient child at Christmas. There wasn’t much else in the room apart from a bench for toys, an uncomfortable-looking fucking bench, and a whipping post. Turnbull was aware of Abbott’s… unique style of discipline, but had never seen him so aggravated before. Abbott had never looked so predatory, nor Christopher so scared.
Christopher bit his lip as Abbott moved in front of him, glaring at him. There was so little distance between them it was impossible to avoid looking at him. Abbott grasped his chin and sneered, unimpressed by what he saw.
“If things were different, if you belonged to me, I wouldn’t bother holding back. I don’t know how he puts up with you,” Abbott said.
Christopher, and Turnbull, declined the opportunity to comment. Christopher closed his eyes and waited for what was to come. Instead of the whipping Abbott had promised, he found himself being released from the manacles and thrown towards Turnbull. Staggering on the heels, he lost his balance and fell to the ground. Abbott walked towards him, every footstep taking a lifetime.
“Come here, you stupid slave. I want your body,” Abbott said.
Christopher, unnerved by his calm voice, got to his feet and walked over to him, lowering his head in submission. It was proper for him to do so. Abbott always insisted on it. He knew what he had to do and knelt at his feet, waiting.
“Don’t be presumptuous. Get up. Over there. Show me your arse like a good little boy,” Abbott said, gesturing over to the fucking bench, bent at such an angle to facilitate sex.
“Yes, sir,” Christopher said as he followed his instructions.
He couldn’t get comfortable, not with the way Abbott was roughly preparing him. Abbott was never nice to him, not the way he was nice to Turnbull. Christopher had accepted that he was just the slave, the fucktoy. The one they played with then they were bored. Abbott’s punching bag.
Christopher felt the lacy g-string slipped down his arse, his legs spread and Abbott pushing inside him. He knew it was Abbott. Turnbull was never as rough with him. It seemed different though. Abbott was letting him have some pleasure, and when Christopher realised this, he didn’t hold back. He couldn’t touch himself, but it didn’t matter. He’d learnt to come on his own. He did his best to time his orgasm with Abbott’s.
“Oh, no, you don’t. I’m not done with you yet,” Abbott said, just as Christopher was about to come.
With a slap to his arse, Christopher managed to hold back, though only just. He thought it was too good to be true. Abbott thrust harder as he came, making sure Christopher knew who was in charge. He sighed with relief as Abbott stepped back.
“Turnbull, he’s all yours,” Abbott said.
Turnbull had been slowly stroking himself as he watched them, but he’d held back. He was waiting for his turn. He badly wanted Christopher’s prissy little mouth on his cock.
“Bring him over here,” Turnbull said.
Christopher could hardly wait. Abbott dragged him along by the collar around his neck and shoved him down on his knees in front of Turnbull.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” Abbott said, turning away from the sight of Christopher gazing lovingly at Turnbull. “Christ, man, grow some balls, will you?”
Christopher didn’t hear him. He heard the door open and close though, and realised they were alone. Turnbull cupped his cheek gently and smiled at him.
“Please, sir, I’ll do anything, I promise, I love you, just-”
“I think you know what needs attending to,” Turnbull said.
Christopher understood. Turnbull leant his head back against the wall as Christopher began sucking him. Every action was deliberate and slow, designed to elicit the greatest pleasure, from the way he licked the underside of the shaft to the way he sucked on the head and tongued the slit, to the way his hands slipped his trousers off so he could suck on his balls and slip his tongue in his arse. Christopher was nothing if not thorough and selfless, and had learnt to keep his mouth around his cock as he came so he could swallow everything out of love and devotion.
Christopher curled up beside him afterwards, leaning his head against his thigh. There was no way he’d ever leave him. Turnbull stroked a hand through Christopher’s hair and remarked at how easy he had been to train. Some people were just naturally submissive. Christopher Pyne was one of those people. Turnbull knew his loyalty would never waver.
Author: Sashataakheru
Fandom: Australian Politics RPS
Starring: Tony Abbott, Christopher Pyne, Malcolm Turnbull
Pairings: Abbott/Pyne, Abbott/Turnbull, Turnbull/Pyne
Word Count: 966
Prompt: 041 – BDSM for
citrus_taste (table)Warnings: D/s themes, oral sex, anal sex, drag/cross-dressing
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: Not true in any way, shape or form.
Author’s Notes: Rhys Muldoon is a Very Bad Influence and should not tweet Question Tiem in such a slashy manner. XD
Summary: Taken in by Turnbull and Abbott, mincing poodle dandy Pyne is rather eager to please.
Pining For You
He stood up straight, eyes firmly fixed on the wall opposite. Who was he? Not Chris. Christopher. That was his name, said with such disdain and disgust by Abbott. Abbott preferred Poodle. Thought it suited him better. Reminded him of how pissweak he was. That’s all Christopher was, a stupid pretty little poodle with no bark. He knew better than to talk back. Christopher cringed as Abbott mussed up his hair in a rough manner, digging his fingers into his skull.
“Even that makes you look like a poofter. There’s no helping some people,” Abbott spat, turning away from him.
“I do think that sometimes you’re too harsh on the boy,” Turnbull said.
“Like you can talk. You know it’s only a matter of time before you’re out of here,” Abbott said. “Shut up and keep out of this. You said I could discipline him. Let me do things my way.”
Turnbull bowed meekly and stepped back, watching them from a seat in the corner. It was a strange sight, if he was perfectly honest with himself. Christopher had been stripped naked and left in make-up, women’s lingerie, and red heels, and manacled to the cold wall behind him. Abbott paced like an impatient child at Christmas. There wasn’t much else in the room apart from a bench for toys, an uncomfortable-looking fucking bench, and a whipping post. Turnbull was aware of Abbott’s… unique style of discipline, but had never seen him so aggravated before. Abbott had never looked so predatory, nor Christopher so scared.
Christopher bit his lip as Abbott moved in front of him, glaring at him. There was so little distance between them it was impossible to avoid looking at him. Abbott grasped his chin and sneered, unimpressed by what he saw.
“If things were different, if you belonged to me, I wouldn’t bother holding back. I don’t know how he puts up with you,” Abbott said.
Christopher, and Turnbull, declined the opportunity to comment. Christopher closed his eyes and waited for what was to come. Instead of the whipping Abbott had promised, he found himself being released from the manacles and thrown towards Turnbull. Staggering on the heels, he lost his balance and fell to the ground. Abbott walked towards him, every footstep taking a lifetime.
“Come here, you stupid slave. I want your body,” Abbott said.
Christopher, unnerved by his calm voice, got to his feet and walked over to him, lowering his head in submission. It was proper for him to do so. Abbott always insisted on it. He knew what he had to do and knelt at his feet, waiting.
“Don’t be presumptuous. Get up. Over there. Show me your arse like a good little boy,” Abbott said, gesturing over to the fucking bench, bent at such an angle to facilitate sex.
“Yes, sir,” Christopher said as he followed his instructions.
He couldn’t get comfortable, not with the way Abbott was roughly preparing him. Abbott was never nice to him, not the way he was nice to Turnbull. Christopher had accepted that he was just the slave, the fucktoy. The one they played with then they were bored. Abbott’s punching bag.
Christopher felt the lacy g-string slipped down his arse, his legs spread and Abbott pushing inside him. He knew it was Abbott. Turnbull was never as rough with him. It seemed different though. Abbott was letting him have some pleasure, and when Christopher realised this, he didn’t hold back. He couldn’t touch himself, but it didn’t matter. He’d learnt to come on his own. He did his best to time his orgasm with Abbott’s.
“Oh, no, you don’t. I’m not done with you yet,” Abbott said, just as Christopher was about to come.
With a slap to his arse, Christopher managed to hold back, though only just. He thought it was too good to be true. Abbott thrust harder as he came, making sure Christopher knew who was in charge. He sighed with relief as Abbott stepped back.
“Turnbull, he’s all yours,” Abbott said.
Turnbull had been slowly stroking himself as he watched them, but he’d held back. He was waiting for his turn. He badly wanted Christopher’s prissy little mouth on his cock.
“Bring him over here,” Turnbull said.
Christopher could hardly wait. Abbott dragged him along by the collar around his neck and shoved him down on his knees in front of Turnbull.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” Abbott said, turning away from the sight of Christopher gazing lovingly at Turnbull. “Christ, man, grow some balls, will you?”
Christopher didn’t hear him. He heard the door open and close though, and realised they were alone. Turnbull cupped his cheek gently and smiled at him.
“Please, sir, I’ll do anything, I promise, I love you, just-”
“I think you know what needs attending to,” Turnbull said.
Christopher understood. Turnbull leant his head back against the wall as Christopher began sucking him. Every action was deliberate and slow, designed to elicit the greatest pleasure, from the way he licked the underside of the shaft to the way he sucked on the head and tongued the slit, to the way his hands slipped his trousers off so he could suck on his balls and slip his tongue in his arse. Christopher was nothing if not thorough and selfless, and had learnt to keep his mouth around his cock as he came so he could swallow everything out of love and devotion.
Christopher curled up beside him afterwards, leaning his head against his thigh. There was no way he’d ever leave him. Turnbull stroked a hand through Christopher’s hair and remarked at how easy he had been to train. Some people were just naturally submissive. Christopher Pyne was one of those people. Turnbull knew his loyalty would never waver.