Fic, Silk and Steel, Part 21
Nov. 26th, 2008 03:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredbassettTitle : Silk and Steel, Part 21
Authors :![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fredbassett & munchkinofdoom
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Ditzy/Claire
Rating : 18
Disclaimer : Not ours, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None.
Summary : Ditzy makes a much-needed phone call.
Warning : Slave!fic!
A/N : Thanks tolukadreaming for the loan of Claire. The remainder of the series can be found here
Ditzy put his empty coffee cup down and stared wearily around his small sanctuary. He hadn't really needed the sandwich he’d just eaten, but he'd forced it down anyway. He'd be a crap medic if he allowed himself to set a bad example to both his team and the civilians. Not that there was anyone to witness his exemplary example right now.
The infirmary beyond the treatment room was quiet, the lights dimmed, with only Jon Lyle currently in residence. Hart was out there with him, hovering, trying to keep busy in the hope of avoiding thought about the day's activities. And about the new steel collar locked around his neck.
Oh well, he couldn’t sit here all evening, wool gathering. If he was lucky, he might be able to make it home in time to crawl into bed with Claire and sleep away the last of this bloody fuck of a day in peace and quiet.
The medic pulled himself out of the chair and headed for the duty roster on the far wall. Corporal Wilkes was due in for the night shift. Ditzy nodded approvingly. Wilkes was a good man and an even better medic; older than most here, and dependable. Ditzy could hand over to him with confidence. Lyle would be in good hands, and Wilkes would turn a blind eye to Hart's presence if they couldn't persuade the stupid bugger to go home to his own bed.
Ditzy rolled his shoulders in an effort to relieve the tightness building there. It had been a long day, and the stress had taken a toll. Then he heard Lyle's voice calling out, "Ditzy, do me a favour and shut the door, mate, my boyfriend’s shy and I need a hand job.”
Oh, fuck it. That was all he needed. Ditzy thumped his head against the wall and then strode to the door of the treatment room, snapping, “You’re not the only bloody one,” before he pulled the door closed with more force than was strictly necessary.
With a sigh of irritation, the medic hauled himself up on the examination couch, leaning back against the wall, his feet dangling over the edge. He began to softly, rhythmically bang his head against the wall, feeling the return of all of the tensions of the day. The muscles and tendons in his shoulders were painfully tight, and he could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. He knew perfectly well that banging his head against the wall was childish, stupid and wasn't going to help the headache, but he didn't give a rat's arse.
Ditzy reached down, opened his fly and pushed down his boxers. If he was going to be childish, he may as well do it in style, and Lyle really wasn’t the only one who needed a wank, he’d been serious about that remark. He closed his eyes, wrapping his fingers firmly around his still flaccid cock, remembering the hard, heavy, silken feel of Connor Temple's erection in his hand. His cock twitched a little, and Ditzy loosened his grip, assaulted by a sudden feeling of unease. It felt wrong, as if he was taking advantage of Temple's vulnerability, even though the lad was now long gone and safely home, hopefully being fussed over by Abby, as he deserved.
His hand falling away, Ditzy stared down at his cock, feeling the taut tendons in his shoulders pull as he moved. It shouldn't be this difficult. A quick wank, release, and he could get on with what was left of the day, hopefully ending up where he really wanted to be, at home with Claire. He closed his eyes again, his head falling back softly to rest against the wall. He needed to hear her voice. Nothing more. He just needed to listen to her speak, and maybe that would be enough to keep him from turning the next oversexed fucker he met into mincemeat.
Ditzy pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit speed dial without looking. Keeping his eyes closed, he listened to the ring tone, and then it connected.
"Hi, sweetie."
"Hi," he whispered.
"You sound tired." Her voice was warm, concerned, but also upbeat. It flowed like honey over him and made him feel better almost automatically.
"Long day," the medic shrugged, even though he knew Claire couldn't see it. "Where are you?"
"Home, surrounded by the unintelligible scribblings of a class full of hormonal teenagers. Christ, you wouldn’t believe the things that kids get out of reading Romeo and Juliet these days." Claire laughed, and the sound sent shivers down Ditzy's spine. "Can I ask what you're doing, or will you have to kill me if you tell me?"
"No, I can trust you with this one. Lyle and Hart have just demanded some quality time alone, so I'm hiding in the treatment room," Ditzy muttered.
"In the infirmary? With all those cameras?" Claire laughed again.
"I never said Lyle was bright."
Claire chuckled again, and Ditzy smiled. No matter how bad things were, she could always make him feel better. Then her voice quietened and she asked sympathetically, "How did the ceremony go?"
"Rough. One stupid bastard tried to fight it, but he got sat on pretty quickly. You know how these things can get, though, so Lester wanted the place cleared out and locked down. We've sent everyone home and I'm hiding from the inevitable results of a bloody collaring ceremony."
"Yeah, I remember. The professors had to go from room to room after we graduated and were collared, breaking up the orgies. It's amazing what excuse people will use just to have sex," she said, with wry amusement. "So now you're holed up in the treatment room, trying to ignore Jon and Stephen going at it like bunnies, and feeling all neglected and randy?"
"Something like that," he admitted.
"Would you like me to do something about that?" Her voice was soft, seductive, and Ditzy's breath caught in his throat.
"Yeah," he sighed.
"Are you sitting down for me, sweetheart?"
"Yeah..."
"Trousers open?"
"Yeah…"
"Close your eyes, baby."
Ditzy leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes still closed, and tucked the phone under his chin. He sighed again and heard Claire's breath quicken in reaction.
"I love you, baby."
"Yeah…" Ditzy sighed again and Claire gave a low, seductive, amused chuckle.
"See me standing in front of you now, sweetheart? I'm undoing my blouse, sliding it off my shoulders, reaching behind to undo my bra." She sighed, "I like it so much better, baby, when you take it off for me, but, this time, I want you to just sit and watch. Can you do that for me?"
"Mmm…"
Claire chuckled softly again, "Now I'm undoing my skirt and pushing my pants down and I'm dropping them to the floor at your feet. I'm kicking off my shoes and now I'm in front of you, my hands on your shoulders, and you're naked. I love your shoulders, baby … so strong. I love when you hold me…. makes me feel so safe."
Ditzy groaned, almost able to feel her hands on his shoulders, pressing firmly into the muscles there, relaxing him just by her touch.
"You’re wrapping those lovely strong arms around my waist and pulling me onto your lap, and you're hard for me. And I'm wet for you, I’m so ready you can feel me leaking onto your cock as you press slowly inside me."
Claire's voice hitched a little and Ditzy moaned, his hand firm on his cock, mimicking the grip of her inner walls.
"I can feel your arms, so tight around me, and you’re lifting me and lowering me onto your cock, over and over, those lovely arms of yours never tiring, and I can feel you sliding deep inside me. So deep… so hard …so good, baby."
Ditzy worked his cock, gripping himself in time with the cadence of Claire's low, husky voice, bringing him closer to the release he had been so desperate for.
"Oh God, I can feel you all the way in me, sweetheart, and I want to keep you inside me forever… safe… mine. Only mine, always." Claire's voice began to break, her words coming in pants down the phone to him, and Ditzy could almost feel her breath in his ear, as he imagined her head nestled on his shoulder, her body moving slick and sweaty against his.
"Claire…"
"I'm right here, baby. I'm so close now, I can feel it coming. I’m so tight around you, can you feel it?"
"Yeah… fuck…" A low chuckle sounded in his ear and Ditzy gripped his cock tighter, his fingers rippling along its hard, silky surface. He could almost taste his own climax, his body tightening in readiness, all from the sound of his lover's voice.
"God, Dave, I can feel you … God …" Her voice broke and failed and he could hear the familiar sound of her orgasm. It ignited something deep inside of him and he was coming hard, stars exploding against his closed eyelids.
Then everything was quiet, only the sound of his heavy breathing audible in the small treatment room. Claire's last panting breath echoing softly in his ear.
"I love you, Dave Owen," said Claire, finally.
"Love you too," Ditzy murmured.
"Can you make it home tonight?" she asked.
"I don't know. I'll try. Don't wait up."
Claire chuckled, a low, sated sound, and it made Ditzy smile.
"I'd better go, before Lyle suffers a sex-related setback," he said, wryly.
She laughed, and said, "Bye, sweetheart," and then Claire was gone.
Ditzy opened his eyes at last, looking blearily around the barren little room, and sighed as he disconnected the call and pocketed the phone. His hand was sticky, and he grimaced, getting wearily to his feet to wash off in the small sink in the corner of the room. He dried his hands, put himself to rights, and rested his head against the cool wall tiles over the small rubbish bin
And then a mischievous smile began to spread across his face.
“You’ve got five minutes to finish, then I’m coming back out!” Ditzy yelled at the closed door of the treatment room. With any luck, Wilkes would be on time – which he would be, of course, being Wilkes – and they should, between them, be enough to make Hart go home
Ditzy nodded to himself with satisfaction. He might just make it home to Claire in good time tonight, and then, and only then, would he finally be able to put this godawful day, with the collaring, the mad academics, the well-meaning geeks and his over-sexed patients, behind him.
Time to go roust the love-birds …
Authors :
fredbassett & munchkinofdoom Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Ditzy/Claire
Rating : 18
Disclaimer : Not ours, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None.
Summary : Ditzy makes a much-needed phone call.
Warning : Slave!fic!
A/N : Thanks to
lukadreaming for the loan of Claire. The remainder of the series can be found hereDitzy put his empty coffee cup down and stared wearily around his small sanctuary. He hadn't really needed the sandwich he’d just eaten, but he'd forced it down anyway. He'd be a crap medic if he allowed himself to set a bad example to both his team and the civilians. Not that there was anyone to witness his exemplary example right now.
The infirmary beyond the treatment room was quiet, the lights dimmed, with only Jon Lyle currently in residence. Hart was out there with him, hovering, trying to keep busy in the hope of avoiding thought about the day's activities. And about the new steel collar locked around his neck.
Oh well, he couldn’t sit here all evening, wool gathering. If he was lucky, he might be able to make it home in time to crawl into bed with Claire and sleep away the last of this bloody fuck of a day in peace and quiet.
The medic pulled himself out of the chair and headed for the duty roster on the far wall. Corporal Wilkes was due in for the night shift. Ditzy nodded approvingly. Wilkes was a good man and an even better medic; older than most here, and dependable. Ditzy could hand over to him with confidence. Lyle would be in good hands, and Wilkes would turn a blind eye to Hart's presence if they couldn't persuade the stupid bugger to go home to his own bed.
Ditzy rolled his shoulders in an effort to relieve the tightness building there. It had been a long day, and the stress had taken a toll. Then he heard Lyle's voice calling out, "Ditzy, do me a favour and shut the door, mate, my boyfriend’s shy and I need a hand job.”
Oh, fuck it. That was all he needed. Ditzy thumped his head against the wall and then strode to the door of the treatment room, snapping, “You’re not the only bloody one,” before he pulled the door closed with more force than was strictly necessary.
With a sigh of irritation, the medic hauled himself up on the examination couch, leaning back against the wall, his feet dangling over the edge. He began to softly, rhythmically bang his head against the wall, feeling the return of all of the tensions of the day. The muscles and tendons in his shoulders were painfully tight, and he could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. He knew perfectly well that banging his head against the wall was childish, stupid and wasn't going to help the headache, but he didn't give a rat's arse.
Ditzy reached down, opened his fly and pushed down his boxers. If he was going to be childish, he may as well do it in style, and Lyle really wasn’t the only one who needed a wank, he’d been serious about that remark. He closed his eyes, wrapping his fingers firmly around his still flaccid cock, remembering the hard, heavy, silken feel of Connor Temple's erection in his hand. His cock twitched a little, and Ditzy loosened his grip, assaulted by a sudden feeling of unease. It felt wrong, as if he was taking advantage of Temple's vulnerability, even though the lad was now long gone and safely home, hopefully being fussed over by Abby, as he deserved.
His hand falling away, Ditzy stared down at his cock, feeling the taut tendons in his shoulders pull as he moved. It shouldn't be this difficult. A quick wank, release, and he could get on with what was left of the day, hopefully ending up where he really wanted to be, at home with Claire. He closed his eyes again, his head falling back softly to rest against the wall. He needed to hear her voice. Nothing more. He just needed to listen to her speak, and maybe that would be enough to keep him from turning the next oversexed fucker he met into mincemeat.
Ditzy pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit speed dial without looking. Keeping his eyes closed, he listened to the ring tone, and then it connected.
"Hi, sweetie."
"Hi," he whispered.
"You sound tired." Her voice was warm, concerned, but also upbeat. It flowed like honey over him and made him feel better almost automatically.
"Long day," the medic shrugged, even though he knew Claire couldn't see it. "Where are you?"
"Home, surrounded by the unintelligible scribblings of a class full of hormonal teenagers. Christ, you wouldn’t believe the things that kids get out of reading Romeo and Juliet these days." Claire laughed, and the sound sent shivers down Ditzy's spine. "Can I ask what you're doing, or will you have to kill me if you tell me?"
"No, I can trust you with this one. Lyle and Hart have just demanded some quality time alone, so I'm hiding in the treatment room," Ditzy muttered.
"In the infirmary? With all those cameras?" Claire laughed again.
"I never said Lyle was bright."
Claire chuckled again, and Ditzy smiled. No matter how bad things were, she could always make him feel better. Then her voice quietened and she asked sympathetically, "How did the ceremony go?"
"Rough. One stupid bastard tried to fight it, but he got sat on pretty quickly. You know how these things can get, though, so Lester wanted the place cleared out and locked down. We've sent everyone home and I'm hiding from the inevitable results of a bloody collaring ceremony."
"Yeah, I remember. The professors had to go from room to room after we graduated and were collared, breaking up the orgies. It's amazing what excuse people will use just to have sex," she said, with wry amusement. "So now you're holed up in the treatment room, trying to ignore Jon and Stephen going at it like bunnies, and feeling all neglected and randy?"
"Something like that," he admitted.
"Would you like me to do something about that?" Her voice was soft, seductive, and Ditzy's breath caught in his throat.
"Yeah," he sighed.
"Are you sitting down for me, sweetheart?"
"Yeah..."
"Trousers open?"
"Yeah…"
"Close your eyes, baby."
Ditzy leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes still closed, and tucked the phone under his chin. He sighed again and heard Claire's breath quicken in reaction.
"I love you, baby."
"Yeah…" Ditzy sighed again and Claire gave a low, seductive, amused chuckle.
"See me standing in front of you now, sweetheart? I'm undoing my blouse, sliding it off my shoulders, reaching behind to undo my bra." She sighed, "I like it so much better, baby, when you take it off for me, but, this time, I want you to just sit and watch. Can you do that for me?"
"Mmm…"
Claire chuckled softly again, "Now I'm undoing my skirt and pushing my pants down and I'm dropping them to the floor at your feet. I'm kicking off my shoes and now I'm in front of you, my hands on your shoulders, and you're naked. I love your shoulders, baby … so strong. I love when you hold me…. makes me feel so safe."
Ditzy groaned, almost able to feel her hands on his shoulders, pressing firmly into the muscles there, relaxing him just by her touch.
"You’re wrapping those lovely strong arms around my waist and pulling me onto your lap, and you're hard for me. And I'm wet for you, I’m so ready you can feel me leaking onto your cock as you press slowly inside me."
Claire's voice hitched a little and Ditzy moaned, his hand firm on his cock, mimicking the grip of her inner walls.
"I can feel your arms, so tight around me, and you’re lifting me and lowering me onto your cock, over and over, those lovely arms of yours never tiring, and I can feel you sliding deep inside me. So deep… so hard …so good, baby."
Ditzy worked his cock, gripping himself in time with the cadence of Claire's low, husky voice, bringing him closer to the release he had been so desperate for.
"Oh God, I can feel you all the way in me, sweetheart, and I want to keep you inside me forever… safe… mine. Only mine, always." Claire's voice began to break, her words coming in pants down the phone to him, and Ditzy could almost feel her breath in his ear, as he imagined her head nestled on his shoulder, her body moving slick and sweaty against his.
"Claire…"
"I'm right here, baby. I'm so close now, I can feel it coming. I’m so tight around you, can you feel it?"
"Yeah… fuck…" A low chuckle sounded in his ear and Ditzy gripped his cock tighter, his fingers rippling along its hard, silky surface. He could almost taste his own climax, his body tightening in readiness, all from the sound of his lover's voice.
"God, Dave, I can feel you … God …" Her voice broke and failed and he could hear the familiar sound of her orgasm. It ignited something deep inside of him and he was coming hard, stars exploding against his closed eyelids.
Then everything was quiet, only the sound of his heavy breathing audible in the small treatment room. Claire's last panting breath echoing softly in his ear.
"I love you, Dave Owen," said Claire, finally.
"Love you too," Ditzy murmured.
"Can you make it home tonight?" she asked.
"I don't know. I'll try. Don't wait up."
Claire chuckled, a low, sated sound, and it made Ditzy smile.
"I'd better go, before Lyle suffers a sex-related setback," he said, wryly.
She laughed, and said, "Bye, sweetheart," and then Claire was gone.
Ditzy opened his eyes at last, looking blearily around the barren little room, and sighed as he disconnected the call and pocketed the phone. His hand was sticky, and he grimaced, getting wearily to his feet to wash off in the small sink in the corner of the room. He dried his hands, put himself to rights, and rested his head against the cool wall tiles over the small rubbish bin
And then a mischievous smile began to spread across his face.
“You’ve got five minutes to finish, then I’m coming back out!” Ditzy yelled at the closed door of the treatment room. With any luck, Wilkes would be on time – which he would be, of course, being Wilkes – and they should, between them, be enough to make Hart go home
Ditzy nodded to himself with satisfaction. He might just make it home to Claire in good time tonight, and then, and only then, would he finally be able to put this godawful day, with the collaring, the mad academics, the well-meaning geeks and his over-sexed patients, behind him.
Time to go roust the love-birds …
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-11-27 12:10 am (UTC)That was brilliant! And I love Ditzy even more for thinking it.
Yay, Ditzy smut! I so needed to read this because I've been ornery as hell over him.
Now I need to find someone to encourage to write a bit of rough Ryan/Ditzy for me. *looks around with an evil grin*
no subject
Date: 2008-11-27 07:50 am (UTC)I think we can safely say that I have lost my p0rn-writing virginity now! I've written Ditzy/Connor against-the-wall sex (wih bonus zombie!sheep) and now Ditzy/Claire phone-sex, all in the space of a couple of days!
And I agree with what you said about Ditzy just doing job, and getting very little thanks for it. It just seemed lovely to have him turn to Claire when he needed comfort.