Change of Place (E, het)

[extrapenguin]

On AO3
Simon Illyan/Alys Vorpatril

Summary: Simon and Alys do some roleplaying on their visit to the Orb.
In response to a prompt by biichan in the Bujold_Ficathon_2015 collection.

 

The Orb was a busy place. Alys could feel Simon twitch every time a stranger bumped into them. (Sometimes, she couldn't help but stare at the incomers. Good-looking youth in translucent sarongs, middle-aged herms in flamboyant primary colors, a riot of senior Betans in deeply clashing shades of orange, and the only person besides her who'd ever heard of color coordination a Cetagandan exchange student, in tow of his herm friend, looking out of place.)

Finally, the reception staff got to them. Alys murmured the name under which the reservation had been done (a pseudonym, even if Alice and Simon Kaverin were the names on their passports). The perky young boy directed them to their hotel room.

 

The room was done in a nice, warm shade of cream. The bed was upholstered in a rich maroon, and the bedstand and the chair in the corner were a faux mahogany. Next to the chair and near the O-rings on the walls were detailed usage instructions. There was a stack of flimsies on the bed.

Simon gingerly sat down on the bed and looked at the flimsies. Alys joined him.

“The Beginner's Guide to Roleplaying. Consensual Sex for Barrayaran Beginners.” Simon raised an eyebrow at the title. “The Basics of Using Toys to Enhance Pleasure. The Elements of Sexual Bondage. Dominance, Submission, and the Basics of D/s. Introduction to Sadism, Masochism, and Arousal. And the sexual help line's comconsole code. Well, milady, where should we start?”

“How about we start with the roleplaying one and have one for each evening?” Alys suggested. She counted days in her head. “And on the last day, we can combine the things we liked the most.”

Simon gave her a sly grin. “I like the way you think.”

He opened the bound flimsy on roleplaying. Alys scooted closer and rested her head on his shoulder.

It had some general advice on roleplaying (safewords, negotiation, and aftercare were big on the list) and then some example roleplaying scenarios, divided into categories like “power imbalance”.

“I don't think I'd be interested in a ‘hook-up’ scenario”, Alys said, “or pretending that you're any variety of non-human. Now, I do find your uniform interesting, but it wasn't packed, so we'll have to make do. Would there be anything you're particularly interested in, Simon?”

Simon thought for a moment. A sly grin appeared on his face. “You know, I've always wanted to be the drunk Vor lord brought in for questioning.”

Alys felt the beginnings of a smirk on her face. “Envious of all the Vor lordlings puking into the potted plants, are you?” She kissed him thoroughly.

“Only the attention, dear”, he said, after they'd paused for breath. His forehead and nose were touching hers.

“Mmm”, she agreed. “By whom would the drunk Vor lord like to be questioned?”

“Municipal guards, I think.” He stroked her hair. “For loitering around while drunk, I think. Feel free to improvise something else non-serious.”

“Very well, dear.” Alys sat up. “Let us begin, then.” She got off the bed. “Stand up, Vorsomething.”

Damn, but her chilly command voice was good. Simon stumbled to his feet.

Alys paced around Simon. “What, exactly, were you doing in the park at such a dreadful hour of the morning?” There was an edge to her voice. Simon tried his best to keep a goofy grin off his face.

“Here I was, thinking it was night. Oh well.” Simon gave his best approximation of a drunken grin, found on many a lordling trying to get himself out of trouble. “You won't put this on my record, won't you? My CO wouldn't like it at all.”

Alys stalked to his face. “Is that so?” An evil smile grew on her face. “You are in major trouble, Vorsomething. I should put a mark onto your record for drunken disorderly conduct.” She was pacing – no, stalking – in a line in front of Simon, leaning a touch for effect. “In fact, I could append any number of offenses to your record.” She smiled. “However, I have decided to be merciful. You have one last attempt to put that tongue of yours to good use.” She pulled out the chair from the corner and sat on it.

Simon hesitated for the few seconds it took for him to realize what she meant, then got on his knees and shuffled over to her waiting legs.

Alys, still looking like the proverbial cat that ate the canary, lifted the hem of her light travel dress and parted her legs. She motioned for Simon to come closer.

An actual drunk Vor lord would have found performing cunnilingus hard. Simon, however, was stone cold sober, and had had lots of practice. He started by nuzzling his way up, lipped Alys' clitoral hood, teased with his breath until she opened her legs wider and pressed a hand to the back of his skull.

Simon was perfectly capable of taking a hint, if this even counted as one, and gave a good long lick with the flat of his tongue, then worked the tip in between the labia. He had to swallow, then, so as not to drown in Alys' fluids.

Giving Alys an orgasm was a pleasant tactical problem, much more engaging than whatever the kids were doing at the Academy nowadays. He applied himself to it fully, and was rewarded with Alys' breath hitching. Her breathing was labored. Simon would have smirked, but he had better things to do with his mouth. He pushed with his tongue, licking at the edges of her vaginal opening, nose at her clitoris, listening to the small appreciative moans she was making. The few experimental licks at her clitoris were greeted with an increase in the pressure at the base of his neck, so he switched his attentions upward. A few licks, executed just so, interspersed with nuzzling and a gentle nibble, and Alys groaned loudly.

After she'd stopped twitching, she pulled him off of her. “A passing mark, I believe”, she said, frazzled.

It was Simon's turn to grin smugly. “Why thank you, dear. Would you care to join me on the bed?”

She did.