Jedao breathes in soft, shallow pants, and he moves with a ginger, wincing slowness as he steps away from the table. He hisses as he goes down to his knees, the skin of his calves and hamstrings pulling in a new way with the motion, then screeching incandescently for a moment as he folds his legs, hot abused skin on both sides, pouring that heat back into the other side, his own sweat stinging in the raw places where weals built up and small black dots of blood had started to emerge.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Jedao chants under his ragged breath, trying not to either pass out or come right away, not sure which is more likely. He sits on his heels, soles with their single fresh stripe fully exposed, the muscles in his back shifting as he braces and then relaxes. He sets his palms down on the tops of his thighs, digs his fingernails in slightly as he waits, closing his eyes. There's nothing but the pain, and the awareness of Astarion's body behind him, and the whistling tremolo of anticipation.
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Date: 2025-01-19 07:30 pm (UTC)"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Jedao chants under his ragged breath, trying not to either pass out or come right away, not sure which is more likely. He sits on his heels, soles with their single fresh stripe fully exposed, the muscles in his back shifting as he braces and then relaxes. He sets his palms down on the tops of his thighs, digs his fingernails in slightly as he waits, closing his eyes. There's nothing but the pain, and the awareness of Astarion's body behind him, and the whistling tremolo of anticipation.