FIC: The Kiss of the Beast: Brushwork (Gan Shoucheng/Original Female Character, NC-17)
Mar. 7th, 2026 05:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snowgrouseTitle: Brushwork
Author: Snowgrouse
Fandom: The Longest Day in Chang'an (2019)
Pairing: Gan Shoucheng/Original Female Character
Rating: NC-17
Genre: PWP, BDSM, Erotica, Ravishment Roleplay
Warnings: Flogging, bondage, some non-con elements. But it's not darkfic, just a bit of kinky fun where they're both into it.
Length: ~8100 words
Summary: Gan's new slave girl finds his dirty drawings, and Gan suggests they paint each other's portraits. Soon, their play leads to him painting her body with wine, and wanting to see how long it'll take for him to lick it, whip it and ravish it off her body.
A/N: Here we go with the Anaïs-style erotic ideas again... if you liked The Silk and the Whip, you might like this one.
( As he crouches over her like the monster he is, his eyes narrowed with cruelty, she feels her cunny squeezing in sickening arousal.
Suddenly, something wet splashes onto her belly, making her gasp: as she looks down, she sees his prick is dripping, his belly rippling with sadistic thrill.
The level of his perversion astonishes her, shocks her--and yet, excites her; his smile is sharp, curling into his whiskers.
"So, my dear," he says and caresses her throat, as if assessing where to best grip it in order to crush it. "Is that something you would like to try?"
She searches his eyes. "Do you still wish to see my pleasure, Master?" she asks boldly, too boldly--with the implied then, you mustn't go too far with your cruelty, or I will never be able to love you hanging heavy in the air.
It's an audacious thing for a slave to ask, it's true. Yet, a high-class courtesan has the right to demand respect from men, and he knows this to be her training: she is no ordinary slave, and that's why he'd paid such a great sum of money for her. If it's elegance and refinement he wants--a woman dignified--he should treat her accordingly.
But perhaps, he'd bought a refined, dignified woman exactly because he enjoys destroying that dignity, grinding it all into dust underneath his booted heel? She could easily believe that of him, and some of the rumours she's heard of him would seem to confirm that.
Thus, she steels herself for a slap.
Yet, to her surprise, he bursts into laughter; he even seems impressed, raising an amused eyebrow.
"It's only that you look as if your pleasure might be the same as mine," he says.
"What's your pleasure, Master?"
He just smirks, then sits back on his knees. "I want you to walk over to that pillar over there, then wrap your arms around it. It shall be our tree."
The general in the drawing had ravished the woman in the shade of a tree; the woman had been clawing at it, clinging to it as he'd plunged his monstrously proportioned prick between her pale white buttocks.
She looks him square in the eye. "Bed."
He throws back his head and laughs loudly, slapping his thigh; he shakes his head at her. "How quaint. The slave thinks she's in charge."
And in one, swift movement, he's grabbed her pibo scarf, scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the pillar; she's so shocked she doesn't resist as he makes her kneel with her face against the pillar. Deftly, obviously from old experience, he ties her hands around the pillar with the scarf and pulls her hair to hang over her shoulder at the front, exposing her back.
But when he picks up a leather flogger and twirls it playfully, making it swish through the air, a cold chill goes down her spine. "Master!"
He hits the pillar with the flogger, the loud smack making her flinch back in terror. "What's that, my girl?" he chuckles, pretending not to have heard her. "You wanted it; now, take it!"
And at that, he strikes her across the buttocks with his flogger, laughing as she jerks back from the sting. "Just warming you up, my dear!" he cackles and strikes her again, again, again, her cries of shock ringing in the room. "Before I take you gently," he mocks, "sweetly and tenderly," he lashes her again, "on that nice, soft bed!")
Author: Snowgrouse
Fandom: The Longest Day in Chang'an (2019)
Pairing: Gan Shoucheng/Original Female Character
Rating: NC-17
Genre: PWP, BDSM, Erotica, Ravishment Roleplay
Warnings: Flogging, bondage, some non-con elements. But it's not darkfic, just a bit of kinky fun where they're both into it.
Length: ~8100 words
Summary: Gan's new slave girl finds his dirty drawings, and Gan suggests they paint each other's portraits. Soon, their play leads to him painting her body with wine, and wanting to see how long it'll take for him to lick it, whip it and ravish it off her body.
A/N: Here we go with the Anaïs-style erotic ideas again... if you liked The Silk and the Whip, you might like this one.
( As he crouches over her like the monster he is, his eyes narrowed with cruelty, she feels her cunny squeezing in sickening arousal.
Suddenly, something wet splashes onto her belly, making her gasp: as she looks down, she sees his prick is dripping, his belly rippling with sadistic thrill.
The level of his perversion astonishes her, shocks her--and yet, excites her; his smile is sharp, curling into his whiskers.
"So, my dear," he says and caresses her throat, as if assessing where to best grip it in order to crush it. "Is that something you would like to try?"
She searches his eyes. "Do you still wish to see my pleasure, Master?" she asks boldly, too boldly--with the implied then, you mustn't go too far with your cruelty, or I will never be able to love you hanging heavy in the air.
It's an audacious thing for a slave to ask, it's true. Yet, a high-class courtesan has the right to demand respect from men, and he knows this to be her training: she is no ordinary slave, and that's why he'd paid such a great sum of money for her. If it's elegance and refinement he wants--a woman dignified--he should treat her accordingly.
But perhaps, he'd bought a refined, dignified woman exactly because he enjoys destroying that dignity, grinding it all into dust underneath his booted heel? She could easily believe that of him, and some of the rumours she's heard of him would seem to confirm that.
Thus, she steels herself for a slap.
Yet, to her surprise, he bursts into laughter; he even seems impressed, raising an amused eyebrow.
"It's only that you look as if your pleasure might be the same as mine," he says.
"What's your pleasure, Master?"
He just smirks, then sits back on his knees. "I want you to walk over to that pillar over there, then wrap your arms around it. It shall be our tree."
The general in the drawing had ravished the woman in the shade of a tree; the woman had been clawing at it, clinging to it as he'd plunged his monstrously proportioned prick between her pale white buttocks.
She looks him square in the eye. "Bed."
He throws back his head and laughs loudly, slapping his thigh; he shakes his head at her. "How quaint. The slave thinks she's in charge."
And in one, swift movement, he's grabbed her pibo scarf, scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the pillar; she's so shocked she doesn't resist as he makes her kneel with her face against the pillar. Deftly, obviously from old experience, he ties her hands around the pillar with the scarf and pulls her hair to hang over her shoulder at the front, exposing her back.
But when he picks up a leather flogger and twirls it playfully, making it swish through the air, a cold chill goes down her spine. "Master!"
He hits the pillar with the flogger, the loud smack making her flinch back in terror. "What's that, my girl?" he chuckles, pretending not to have heard her. "You wanted it; now, take it!"
And at that, he strikes her across the buttocks with his flogger, laughing as she jerks back from the sting. "Just warming you up, my dear!" he cackles and strikes her again, again, again, her cries of shock ringing in the room. "Before I take you gently," he mocks, "sweetly and tenderly," he lashes her again, "on that nice, soft bed!")
