Fic: You And Your Gucci Belt (1/1)
Mar. 24th, 2012 07:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
redfiona99Title: You And Your Gucci Belt
Author: Red Fiona
Fandom: Wrestling
Characters: Dave Batista / Randy Orton
Prompt: 8 - Leather
Word Count: 424
Rating: R - contains sex of dubious safety
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they themselves and WWE do. No money is being made from this. This is fiction, it is not real, it bears no resemblance to real life. I also don't own Gucci and their trademarked goods.
Summary: Randy's response to that belt was starting to worry him.
Notes: I feel I should state that this is very much leather with a little 'l'.
~~~~
Randy's response to that belt was starting to worry him. Every time he saw it, he could feel it on him, smell it, touch it, taste it, as he remembered all the things he'd had done to him with that belt.
It would be more understandable if it was *the* belt that made him feel like this, because that was what everyone was aiming for, it was worth more than all the crown jewels in the world, but it wasn't the heavyweight title belt that was making his blood rush.
It wasn't even as though the belt in question was anything special, sure, it was Gucci, quietly shouting its origin with the brand name embossed in its soft, flexible black leather, but it was still mass produced, no matter how expensive it had been.
Randy had no idea whether Dave knew the effect that the belt had on him, Dave wore it in rotation with his other belts, and didn't treat it as thought it was anything special. Maybe it was just luck that most times Dave got kinky, he happened to be wearing the same belt.
The spontaneity of it was part of what Randy enjoyed, that Dave didn't ever plan any of this, but had the presence of mind to use what he had to hand whenever he wanted to do something to Randy.
That belt had touched every part of his body.
It had been around Randy's waist at photoshoots when he'd forgotten his own belt; it had been used to tie his wrists together, so he couldn't use them for anything, or to tie his feet for the same purpose. Dave used it instead of ropes or ties for tying Randy to bed posts, because rope chafed and Randy broke through ties. Randy had been led round the house by it, a makeshift lead, when he'd been a very bad dog indeed. It was amazing how well the belt held the smell of leather, Randy had imagined that would wear off, but no, every one of those times that Dave had used the belt to keep a gag in place, the smell of it had overwhelmed him.
The belt had made its way in strips across his back, down along his ass to the top of his thighs. It was still beyond him how something so soft could hurt that much.
Every time he saw the belt, he remembered what they'd done with it before, and he wondered what Dave would do to him with it in the future.
Author: Red Fiona
Fandom: Wrestling
Characters: Dave Batista / Randy Orton
Prompt: 8 - Leather
Word Count: 424
Rating: R - contains sex of dubious safety
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they themselves and WWE do. No money is being made from this. This is fiction, it is not real, it bears no resemblance to real life. I also don't own Gucci and their trademarked goods.
Summary: Randy's response to that belt was starting to worry him.
Notes: I feel I should state that this is very much leather with a little 'l'.
~~~~
Randy's response to that belt was starting to worry him. Every time he saw it, he could feel it on him, smell it, touch it, taste it, as he remembered all the things he'd had done to him with that belt.
It would be more understandable if it was *the* belt that made him feel like this, because that was what everyone was aiming for, it was worth more than all the crown jewels in the world, but it wasn't the heavyweight title belt that was making his blood rush.
It wasn't even as though the belt in question was anything special, sure, it was Gucci, quietly shouting its origin with the brand name embossed in its soft, flexible black leather, but it was still mass produced, no matter how expensive it had been.
Randy had no idea whether Dave knew the effect that the belt had on him, Dave wore it in rotation with his other belts, and didn't treat it as thought it was anything special. Maybe it was just luck that most times Dave got kinky, he happened to be wearing the same belt.
The spontaneity of it was part of what Randy enjoyed, that Dave didn't ever plan any of this, but had the presence of mind to use what he had to hand whenever he wanted to do something to Randy.
That belt had touched every part of his body.
It had been around Randy's waist at photoshoots when he'd forgotten his own belt; it had been used to tie his wrists together, so he couldn't use them for anything, or to tie his feet for the same purpose. Dave used it instead of ropes or ties for tying Randy to bed posts, because rope chafed and Randy broke through ties. Randy had been led round the house by it, a makeshift lead, when he'd been a very bad dog indeed. It was amazing how well the belt held the smell of leather, Randy had imagined that would wear off, but no, every one of those times that Dave had used the belt to keep a gag in place, the smell of it had overwhelmed him.
The belt had made its way in strips across his back, down along his ass to the top of his thighs. It was still beyond him how something so soft could hurt that much.
Every time he saw the belt, he remembered what they'd done with it before, and he wondered what Dave would do to him with it in the future.
