fe_male | memeboxing

[ She knows he doesn't, but it still took a long time for her to be willing to do it to him at all simply because of her own negative associations with it. But right now she wants to limit outside input to him, wants to keep him without distractions and without any focus but her.

She's selfish. Always has been, when it comes to him. There's a soft hum at his answer, her fingers threading into the hair at the nape of his neck and tugging sharply backwards to tilt his head up. ] I don't like being lied to. [ There's almost no sound associated with her movement as she circles back around to the front and crouches down, but her free hand slides down his arm to his elbow, fingers pressing momentarily against a cluster of nerves. It's carefully calculated, pain for only a moment, almost more as a test than anything else. ]

[ And it's the easiest method of limitation to enforce. While hearing would be more disorienting, it could just as likely get a little worrisome much faster for those involved. Sight is immediately jarring, immediately enforces the idea of being reliant and exposed, and very very easily initiated or removed.

It's slightly harder to maintain balance when you can't see, even if you can still feel and hear everything, so his reaction to the tug is a little more wobble than there would have been had he at least been able to visually vertically orient himself. Still, it's not too bad - mostly just results in a little more muscle tension along his legs and torso to stay where he was. Slightly. He swallows, but maintains the determined set to his mouth. Although, the muscles slacken and tighten slightly in surprise when she literally finds a nerve to push: nothing much more than a momentary clenching of the fist for that arm. She's never done that, really, and he wonders for a moment if intentionally walking away didn't perhaps mean more than he'd thought. ]

That's fairly common. Possibly even normal. It's not like you didn't immediately recognize it anyway.

[ Sight's the easiest and the cleanest and the one that she's had some slight measure of rehabilitation towards. It still feels a little too much, in part, but the rational side of her knows that he doesn't have her issues.

It's also possible she has a few more problems with being walked away from than she'd actually like to admit. Still, that's not the point right now. Her fingers keep drifting down his arm to his hand, brush along the sides of his fingers before they travel back upwards. ]

Is that really the justification you want to go with? [ Murmured just against his throat, her breath against his pulse. ]

[ It's probably good that they tend to share very few issues between them. It's probably what means that this all seems to work out.

The whole 'it wasn't wrong because you caught me doing it so I knew it would be okay because you'd catch it' argument is one that's flimsy at best, and he knows it. To his knowledge, it had actually never worked on anyone that mattered, and tended to be a fairly decent barometer when the situation called for it, in regards to who was worth keeping around and who was probably better left with a very special, private, 'thanks for calling but I don't want to talk to you' number.

And god she's so close. She's right there, right here, and he's totally blaming the way he leans towards her again, just a little, is entirely the fault of his new, blindfolded, internal gyroscope. ] Is there an actual question in all of this somewhere?

[ It really is a good thing. If they had all exactly the same issues, they'd probably be having much more of a problem.

Yeah, no kidding, it's a shitty no kind of excuse and she's not even remotely impressed or convinced by it. Approximately the opposite, really. More than anything the opposite. She leans back when he leans forward, stays carefully just out of actual touching range except for the soft nip of her teeth at his pulse for a moment, maybe a warning or maybe just momentary touch, something to tide him over. Her fingers reach his shoulder and start to trail down his side, down until she's curled them in the band of his pants, knuckles against his skin as she noses at the underside of his throat, hand in his hair tightening its grasp. ] You didn't answer the one I just asked.

[ He winds up shifting slightly, feet moving until the toes are on the ground, a little more ready to move than the way the tops of his shoes had been resting on the floor. It makes it a little easier to maintain balance, even though doing so means he has to shift his weight a little back from her, sitting back just slightly enough that rather than be in danger of falling forward too much, he's more in danger of his thighs getting tired and falling back to sit on his heels instead. It's slight, but she's close enough and trained enough to notice.

Otherwise he just does a decently admirable job continuing to try not to react. It's harder, when she doesn't give him space or the contact he's looking for, but teasing amounts of both - not quite enough to cover his irritation though, because as far as he's concerned, that was a rhetorical question and they both know it. He'll take a long shot on potentially annoying her long enough to get another stall on the legitimate questions instead. ] Final answer.

[ She can feel it, every shift of his body that means he's readjusting balance, and she waits it out and then lets go of him, presses her lips to his throat once more before standing up and stepping away entirely. If he's going to be difficult, he's going to get difficulty right back. ]

What's the first one you remember? [ No more stalling on real questions allowed. It had taken her some time to formulate what exactly it was that she wanted to know from him, but now that she does know she's going to drive straight for it. ]

[ Well dammit. She wasn't supposed to figure out his cunning plan to be difficult that quickly.

(Except where she was, because of where he made it completely obvious that was his intention, but hey.)

Here's where there would have been his eyes opening again from the rush of cold air as she pulls away, the sudden loss of body heat and intimacy. It's not to threatening his resolve or stability just yet, but then again, nothing's actually happened. It's another moment of picking and choosing, and this is a fairly easy answer to skimp out on. ] Six or seven. [ He doesn't remember the month. Probably six. But maybe seven. ] Vaguely.

[ His plans to be difficult are rarely cunning because let's be real, they are the default. Him being difficult, deliberately and stubbornly and purposefully so, is the default state of being when she wants to know things that he doesn't want her to know.

Which is most things involving his past, really. He's really difficult about his past, which she can understand because she's equally so, but sometimes she wants to know regardless. ] Tell me what happened. [ Fingers ghosting across the nape of his neck for a moment, as temporary and fleeting as his answer. ]

[ It's not as though he's ever particularly all that forthcoming when it's something he doesn't mind her knowing, either. He's capable of it, and occasionally will be super direct, or volunteer information he wasn't even intending to, but usually. He's actually a fairly private person, and he has instincts that were finely honed to allow for that.

But it has the corollary of meaning that it doesn't always follow that just because he's being difficult about something, he has some intense aversion to talking about it. Usually, yes, but he's not... sometimes he's just difficult to be difficult. Sometimes it's a knee-jerk reaction; and, sometimes, like now, it's because he actually doesn't want to talk about it. He's allowing himself to be persuaded because she seems to find it important, but this in itself is never a topic he would have even considered speaking with her about any more than was immediately necessary. It's obvious from the way he remains like he was for the other answer - he wants more contact and he's got the cause-effect relationship she's putting down, he gets it, but it's sharing and he's never learned how to do that with his toys.

(Disregarding where he winds up just giving a lot of them away and actually does share, just when he feels like it. Sort of.)

There's some gearing up - and some working on memory, because it was really a long time ago - that's probably more physically visible than he's intending because the blindfold apparently does that to him too. That's what he'll blame it on. ] It... Was between school and the nanny, I don't remember which - one. Early school. Special tutoring - whatever. They weren't the same thing, and then there was, I don't know, it was somewhere else. Hotel room somewhere, they got like, they got worried and tired of me talking and I stayed in the bathroom until they realized that was a strategic error if they wanted to not talk for hours. It didn't last very long.

[ He is in many respects a remarkably private person for the widely public life he's lived over the years. It's something she normally doesn't mind about him, except for the moments that he decides it's time to withhold information from her that she needs to help him or just to understand, or if he just gets stubborn for the sake of being stubborn.

It does mean that the fact that he's willing to let her persuade him, that he's given her a way and a means to the end she wants to achieve - she knows that's actually a victory, something that he wouldn't give to others. Maybe it's a hard way to get what she wants, maybe it's complicated and messy and has the potential to go poorly, but he still is giving her what she asked in the way that he's capable of. It's not like anything else about them is straightforward, so why should this be?

She still gets what she wants, and it's something she doesn't think he'd give almost anyone else. That's enough, for now, and when he finishes she's circled back around to his front, leans in to kiss him hard and heavy, hands on the side of his face to keep him precisely where she wants him. ] How did it end? [ Pulling away to ask the question, though from the sound of it she's still quite close, hands still on his face and her body's warmth almost against his. ]

[ He puts everything he's got into the kiss, as he can. He's not allowed to move, that much is clear, and he's staying blindfolded so it's likely inadvisable to move. So he stays here, and takes the kiss she'll give him, give it right back to her in kind.

But she pulls away with another question and the kiss was far too short and completely not enough, and he adjusts, he really adjusts, because she's still right there and he could get her back if he cooperated. If he did. ]

I'm still here.

[ And there's another exceptionally useful aspect to the blindfold, because she's darker eyed and red lipped when she pulls away, that he had an effect on her clear visibly if she keeps her breathing even and her hand steady. ]

That's not an answer. [ Not a real one. Not enough to warrant more contact. In fact it's going to lose him some, her hands sliding down to rake across his shoulders for a moment, nails digging in before she pulls them away entirely. ]

How were they stopped, that time?

[ Too short. It was just too short, and now she's pulling back with a physical hiss, and that's more or less the extremely muffled noise he makes when she does it. It was beautiful, it feels like little strings of heat now as it reacts, and he rolls his shoulders and acquiesces. A little. ]

Found the back wall of the closet was thin. Got through it, into the next room. Happened to be empty, so I called Ja- [ Oh. ] I called Jarvis. Edwin Jarvis, he was a, .. guy. Police told me to sit tight be quiet and they came and got them and took me home to mom.

[ God, she loves that noise. She loves all variations on that noise, and if before she was more interested in the answers she was getting out of him, the forcing him to bend to what she wanted, now there's a shiver in her shoulders for a moment. She could do with getting that noise out of him again.

And that answer gives her the excuse, fingers tracing the red lines on his skin that her nails left as her other hand trails down the center of his chest, pulling the waistband of his pants down just a little bit before she works at the button. ] Why do you need this from me for you to answer questions?

[ But the mention of a Jarvis - that's getting filed away for returning to. There's so much about him she wants to know, wants to understand, and maybe it's not fair of her to demand it (it's definitely not fair of her to demand it) but she wants everything he'll give her. ]

[ The heat from her hands does little to make them feel any less inflamed, but he's working hard to not lean back into that hand, or forward into the other, and concentrating on them both at the same time is a really nice way of splitting his attention away from the newest question and the direction her hand is going.

It's actually a pretty good question though, and he starts to answer before he realizes he doesn't actually have anything to say yet, abbreviating it to half a word and cutting off abruptly as he considers. Is it instant gratification, some sort of counterbalance to feeling like he's giving something away, to get something immediately back in return? Or maybe it's closer to justifying the sense of vulnerability, both confirming it and confirming that there's no reason to be worried about it just now. Or maybe he just felt like having sex and it seemed like a decent bargaining chip. Maybe laziness, and he just can't be bothered to dredge up personal history without some sort of encouragement pushing him along the path. Potentially he's just sort of dysfunctional and broken and there isn't a reason, it's faulty coding that he still doesn't know how to fix.

The quiet this time is still for a few seconds, but doesn't feel like he's just stalling because he's being difficult. From whatever is visible around the blindfold, it's fairly obvious he's actually thinking about what to say. When he finally does answer, it's a far less smug or defiant tone of voice than his other stalling answers, less clipped, and closer to when he's being less of an intentional ass about things. ]

I don't know.

[ She can tell, in a wide variety of ways, when he's dodging a question and when he's actually just thinking of it, trying to determine the right answer. So right now she's waiting, her fingers slowing until they're barely moving but not pulled away yet.

It's a question that confuses her, because even in the event she did want to be dominated (and she can understand the appeal of it to a certain extent, thinks here and there it would probably be a good release, even if in practice it's difficult for her to actually even consider going through with it) it would be the exact opposite thing to make her want to answer any questions. Being required to give someone answers is guaranteed to make her stop giving any of them, at all, no matter how harmless they are. So what makes this work for him - she's curious about it.

There's a long pause when he answers, stillness from her in turn, and then she pulls his zipper down and slides her hand into his pants, presses the heel of her hand against his cock. ] Why do you think?

[ There's completely conflicting things happening here that both oddly result in similar reactions. The zipper, the pressure: both make the slight switch from breathing through his nose to breathing through his mouth, falling open a little bit at first and then slightly more as she presses against him. The puff of air that might have come from that winds up getting tangled in a huff of irritation as she asks him the same thing he just answered, in his opinion. He's not fond of 'I don't know', but that doesn't mean it's not a legitimate answer. It's a pretty good one, actually, and she should be moderately proud to have pulled it from him.

Conflicting natures in mind, it's hard to tell whether he wants to lean towards her or sit back a little (and isn't that starting to be rather the little broken record of an issue). Either way, the annoyance at the repetition helps knock out some of his obedience, turn on a little more stubbornness, even though he's sure it's going to lose him this newest point of contact. ] I'm a little fucked up, in case you hadn't noticed.

[ I don't know was an acceptable answer, but that doesn't mean she's not still curious and it's not really any insight at all. She wants to know if he has any idea, a guess. But she didn't have high expectations for that, so that just gets a soft snort out of her, no shift in her hands position at all.

It's too hard to reach him like this, but she doesn't really want him on a bed either. Lying down leaves only one side of him open. Too confining. She has a little bit of consideration to do, trying to remember if there's anything in here that would let her suspend him safely, give her full and complete angles of access to his body. ] I noticed. Did you get out by yourself most of the time?

[ He's slightly surprised by her reaction, but it's not as though he's going to actually let that show. It's a good reaction. It's good enough that he feels a little better, feels less like moving back is a potential positive, which results in a little lean forward. It's weird having her hand just... Sit there, anyway.

I am willing to bet she could potentially figure out a way to do that. Alternately, suggest another room - he didn't have a particular affinity for the bedroom, it was just the easiest way to convey the thought he did have in mind. Walking through the house in a blindfold would be... Actually potentially a thing, but it's his house and they're the only ones who live there and nothing would happen. There'd be no need to count the steps. ] More often as I got older. Maybe half by this point.

[ She waits long enough that it's not a punishment to pull her hand away, both of them back up to his face for a moment. ] Stand up.

[ She can totally figure out a way to do that, somewhere. The easiest way would probably be the workshop, actually, but there are robots there who might take issue with it and or just be a general mood killer. She's not sure she can trust the light fixture in this room but the one in the room down the hall would work in its design and sturdiness. ] We're going to move rooms. [ Shifting his hand up so that it rests on her shoulder, back to him. ] Just follow me.

[ He appreciates that. And stands up pretty quickly - there's no reason not to right now.

Although that one's not bad. ] We're going to what? [ There's no actual resistance - it's kind of disorienting even following behind someone, so the steps are a little more shuffley on his end than they would be otherwise, but he's not trying to slow her down. It's just a thing. By the time they get there he's walking fairly normally, although his other hand is holding up his pants, since with the button and zipper down they were sliding down as he walked. ] Which room are we going to?

[ She doesn't expect him to be able to move really quickly, so her own steps are even and predictable and she does her best to telegraph to him what's happening next as she can with him blindfolded and their only contact through his hand, reaching up to push his hand back off once they've arrived. ] Not sure what it's called. Some kind of - general room, I think. I need you to stay here while I go get something. Don't move. [ Just a couple things, she's going to be gone like - a minute tops, she knows what she's looking for and where to find it. ]

[ A general room. He's got tons of those. ] Okay. [ Because he can totally resist the urge to peek around the blindfold and figure out what room they're in. He totally can. He'll just sort of put his hands in his pockets and stand here blindfolded in what could be his own living room like an idiot and wait on her to come back, because apparently that's what he's agreed to do. ]

[ It is totally what he agreed to, but she is back really quickly, and though she moves as quietly as she can it's pretty obvious by the time she's tugging his hands out of his pockets and holding them together in front of him. ] Hold your hands like this. I'm going to suspend you now, but you're still going to be able to touch the floor. [ Not flat footed, maybe, but suspension without the ability to touch the floor gets quite dangerous very quickly and she needs time with him, right now, not to need to take him down again in a little bit. The cuffs are in her hands already, her fingers still lingering on one of his wrists, but she's waiting for him to respond to do anything further. ]

i am a deeply reassuring and totally believable and sane person

have you forgotten i've met you or

hey!!

/halo

uh huh just you wait until i get back there

should i be worried

yes

hmm

c:

pls like i believe that face

but why would you ever not believe it

c: c: c: c: c:

nope

8D

:|!!

lalalala

not remotely convincing at all

http://images.plurk.com/zfKB-3JO8i5dyc099TzEdxWxKHH.gif

n o p e

but but but

not gonna change my mind

well damn

i don't believe you thought it would work

not really no

good i'm glad you have accurate expectations