give_satisfaction | Let The Kinkiness Begin!

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Let The Kinkiness Begin!

And we're off! Don't hold back! It's anonymous so let your freak flag fly! Not confident about your creative skills? Practice here! The fills can be anything you want. Fics, videos, artwork and anything else that strikes your fancy. Prompts do not have to be Bertie and Jeeves only! All of the other characters are fair game (Honoria and Madeline tentacle sex, anybody?). As are characters from other books and stories. This meme might be slow to start, so please spread the word!

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Rules

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2. No RPF/RPS

3. No bashing other people's kinks.

4. Please use content warnings. Put them at the start of your prompt. I.e. Prompt (Content Warning: Attempted Suicide)
Please warn for:
Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Major Character Death
Rape/Non-Con
Suicide
Attempted Suicide
Incest

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Believed to be beta Bertie discover he is an omega when he suddenly goes into heat his alpha lover Jeeves thankfully is more than happy to help him with the transition (and his first heat)

Bertie received a nice exotic plant as a gift what he doesn't know is that it shift into a tentacle monster at night and feeds off orgasms. bonus if Jeeves somehow marches on the scene and get caught too . double bonus if they bond over this and become a couple.

Jeeves having the ambition of fucking Bertie at least once in every room of the flat and working hard towards accomplishing that goal.

Jeeves/Bertie kiss chicken

sweaty!Jeeves

Jeeves wearing black leather gloves, solo

stalkerish!Bertie
Bertie has a dark secret. He likes secretly watching Jeeves in his room doing his morning routine. Bertie feels bad about it but it has become an addiction. He finally decides the only way out is confessing to Jeeves no matter what consequences.

It's been a frustrating few days, they've had no privacy so as soon as the last friend/aunt/annoyance is gone Jeeves has is way with Bertie and fuck him none too gently against the piano (they're both into it)

I’m not entirely certain of my facts, but I do believe it was a poet – or maybe a sculptor, or a professor of something or other, or perhaps a priest – who said that something good is always to be extracted from even the most distressing situations. I have discovered this to be true in the aftermath of a particularly embarrassing incident.

It was early summer and I was leaving London to spend a few days in the country with Jeeves. He drove, I sang, and after ten minutes of this he spoke of the merits of silence – to which I said ‘pish-tosh, I will sing another jolly tune until we arrive’. He heaved a mighty sigh and said, ‘very good, sir’.

Upon arriving I immediately pestered Jeeves into accompanying me on a walk by the river. He followed me on the unique condition that I should cease my singing and stick to ordinary conversation. I frowned and pouted and wagged my finger at him, but he was unyielding. So, naturally, I gave in. Jeeves’ company is worth a hundred songs.

We walked by the river, discussing this and that, until something very odd happened. I was telling Jeeves what rummy things clouds are, in the hope that he might explain them to me, and then suddenly all I knew was that the world was very cold and very wet. Jeeves later explained that I had been standing too close to the bally riverbank and that the bally earth had quite ruthlessly disappeared beneath my bally feet, melting into the water and taking me with it.

Now usually, a Wooster is quite the resistant chap, but this brutal cunning of nature, combined with the element of surprise, left me feeling powerless. This side of the river was deep. Panic and cold water seeped into me for a minute and I cried out in not an entirely manly voice.

Within seconds, however, two strong arms were wrapped around my chest and I was pulled out of the water and pushed up onto dry land.

The sun warmed me in mere seconds. I took a steadying breath and tried to shake the embarrassment away. There was no need for anyone to think that I had fallen into the river by accident. I was ready to turn around and say something along the lines of ‘ah, quite the enjoyable swim, what?’ but the words froze on my lips.

Slowly emerging from the water was Jeeves, jacketless and soaking wet. His hair dripped down the sides of his face and onto his neck, where his tie hung loose. His white shirt was completely transparent, revealing a broad chest and porcelain skin. My eyes – treacherous things! – travelled downwards and my breath caught at the sight of his trousers, clinging to his thighs, exposing quite an impressive bulge around his midsection –

‘Good heavens,’ I muttered to myself.

Jeeves looked at me, grey eyes flickering with concern. ‘Sir?’

My stomach lurched. ‘I – er, Jeeves, I hadn’t, I didn’t… I mean to say…’

‘You are not injured, sir?’

‘Er, no.’

My mouth had gone awfully dry and my heart had started pounding in my chest. Heat rose to my cheeks as my valet bent over to pick up his jacket. Water trickled down his back, directing my gaze towards the most attractive backside I had ever had the honour to gawk at.

Of course I am only human. Naturally the unspeakable happened. What I mean to say is that, well, you know, some throbbing and stiffness are to be envisaged in these cases. One cannot be expected to remain entirely proper and respectable while watching a paragon of male beauty walk around in all his wet splendour, clothes hugging his body, trousers tight around his –

But the evidence of my passion was pushing against my own trousers. I quickly removed my jacket and held it in front of me.

‘Thank you for, er, fishing me out of the water and all that, Jeeves,’ I stammered, ‘But I do know how to swim, you know.’

My pride was only slightly wounded – to be entirely honest, I was grateful for my man’s unnecessary plunge into the river. He looked at me, his shirt pulled tight across his chest, muscles gleaming under it. I could hear the sound of my throat as I swallowed.

‘I was not aware of that, sir,’ he answered, tilting his head gracefully to the side.

I clutched my jacket. My heart was racing, and if I wasn’t careful Jeeves was going to notice my, er, predicament.

‘Right. It’s all over now. You can go back to the cottage if you like; draw a bath for yourself, enjoy a moment of peace while the young master is out.’

‘Sir?’ he lifted an eyebrow.

‘Yes, I think I might walk some more, don’t you know. The weather is splendid.’

‘I couldn’t advise it, sir,’ he took a step towards me, reaching for my jacket, ‘I should at least take your ja –’

‘No!’ I cried, leaping out of his reach, ‘No, most certainly not, Jeeves. You’ve done enough for me today. In fact, come to think of it – you know, perhaps you should take the evening off, what?’

‘I did so yesterday, sir.’

‘Yes but yesterday we weren’t in the country, were we?’ And he wasn’t soaking wet, and I wasn’t on the very verge of losing all self-control and yielding to my burning desires.

He brushed his hair out of his eyes and the gesture, so carefree and unjeeveslike, sent a new wave of heat coursing through my body. He frowned slightly. ‘You are not injured, sir?’

‘You’ve asked me that once before, Jeeves,’ I shifted on my feet, ‘No, I am not. But I would like to be left alone.’ I had wanted the words to sound firm, but they came out desperate.

‘Very good, sir.’

I watched him leave as I leaned against a tree. When he was out of sight, my mind wandered. I imagined him drawing a bath, then peeling the clothes off his body, damp fabric clinging one last time to his skin as he pulled it off. I imagined him standing naked in the steam-filled room and slowly stepping into the bath, sinking into the warm water with a sigh. I dreamed of his eyelids fluttering as his hand fell into his lap.

It took me quite some time to recover and compose myself after that. I thought of Aunt Agatha and Sir Roderick Glossop, and then just to make sure the mood had passed, I thought of Honoria Glossop too. I walked back to the cottage a proper and respectable gentleman.

***

Years later, when we’d finally found each other and confessed our feelings, I would ask Jeeves to come to me in wet clothes and let me strip them off his shivering body. He once asked why, and I told him the story. He smiled his secret smile and said there was a poet – or maybe a sculptor, or a professor of something or other, or perhaps a priest – who said that something good is always to be extracted from even the most distressing situations.

Oh my goodness...oh my goodness! I share treasure the image of wet Jeeves in skintight clothes for a long time to come!

Cliffhanger!

cut!Bertie, uncut!Jeeves

Fun to read and so typical Bertie.

Oh, you did a great job describing wet Jeeves! So dashed hot! Hnnng! I love the rescue. And Bertie was so him. And I grinned so much. And the ending! Everything perfect! Thank you so much! ❤

Wow noice ! I love that Jeeves didn't hesitate one second before jumping in and also HOT

Those who know me will tell you without a moment’s hesitation that Bertram Wooster always receives guests, friends, cousins and aunts with open arms. It is a duty and a pleasure. Well, at least that’s what I thought before this unfortunate episode.

The truth is that sometimes guests, friends, cousins and aunts can be a bally nuisance. Imagine it was one of those topping mornings, and you had just climbed out from under the shower, and from the kitchen came the sounds and smells of breakfast. Imagine your valet – the most handsome chap you’d ever laid eyes upon – knocking at the bathroom door, and you opening it with a hearty ‘what ho, Jeeves!’

But then imagine the shock of hearing your valet – the most h. c. you’d ever laid eyes upon – cough uncomfortably and say, ‘Mister Fotheringay-Phipps wishes to see you, sir.’

‘Old Barmy?’ I said.

‘Yes, sir. He is waiting in the sitting-room.’

‘But it’s barely ten o'clock!’

‘I’m afraid Mister Fotheringay-Phipps was most insistent, sir.’

‘But – but, before breakfast?’

Jeeves sighed. There was nothing to be done about it, then.

You see, this was a short time after Jeeves had made me the happiest man alive. It happened one night in – oh, it's a long story, and I haven't time to tell you now, but the point is that we were a pair of lovebirds. In the privacy of our rooms we were like a couple of those Greek chappies. We spent a few hours alone together, every morning after breakfast and every evening after dinner, and those hours were the best of the day.

So you understand that this ill-timed intrusion was annoying, to say the least. I felt jolly well oppressed, to be kept away from my Jeeves by Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps at such an early hour.

‘Not much we can do about it, is there?’

‘I fear not, sir.’

‘Well then, Jeeves. This will be a trial of patience, what?’

I said it with a smile, trying to make light of the sitch. Had I known that after Barmy – who came begging Jeeves to solve a problem he had with his uncle – had I known that after he left there would be three more unwanted guests, I wouldn’t have been so willing to smile.

After Barmy came Tuppy, and after Tuppy my cousin Angela – they’d been quarrelling as usual. By late-afternoon we thought we’d earned our peace, and with eager fingers I reached to unbutton Jeeves’ shirt. But another tap at the door made us both start: it was my aunt Dahlia, and she proclaimed that she would be staying with us for a few days.

Everyone knows that an aunt’s will is a destructive force of nature. You do not fight it, you simply hope it will spare you and wait for it to pass.

The next few days were absolutely ghastly. I spent them sulking in a chair at the Drones, or sulking in a chair at home, or sulking while Jeeves bent over the table to serve us tea, my eyes watering at the injustice of it all.

The moment Jeeves closed the door behind Aunt Dahlia I sighed with relief. I opened my mouth to speak – ‘a trial of patience indeed!’ – but I was silenced by Jeeves’ lips against mine. I melted into the kiss, bringing my hands up to run them through my man’s hair. He steered me backwards, kissing me deeply, until my back collided with the piano and I brought my hands down on the keys, producing delicious sounds of discord. Jeeves’ hands were between my thighs, fondling me through my trousers. He captured my lower lip between his and pulled on it.

I was already aching, throbbing and stiff with desire. Jeeves was usually a gentle lover – he liked to take his time, and often asked me what gave me the most pleasure. But today he was impatient and forceful, handling my body like I was his property. The thought nearly drove me mad with lust.

He stripped me of my clothes, fast and eager, then he flipped me over so that I was facing the piano. My heart pounded in my chest. He had never been this rough with me before. I loved it.

He nudged my legs apart with his knee and bent me over the piano. I heard him undoing the buttons on his trousers and I shivered in anticipation. He spat in his hand and brought it between my thighs, moving his fingers slowly inside me. I gasped, trembling at his harshness, at the strength with which he gripped my hip.

‘It was agony to wait,’ he whispered as he drove his fingers in and out of me, ‘Agony – not being able to touch you...’

I spread my legs further apart for him, pushing back against his fingers with a wanton moan. Good lord, I wanted more. He must have deemed me ready, because he removed his fingers and I heard him preparing himself. I clutched the edge of the piano.

I gasped as he gave the first thrust. He was usually so patient, so careful – this was the exact opposite. I closed my eyes against the pain. I knew that he would stop if I showed the slightest sign of serious discomfort, but I was enjoying this. I wanted him to be careless and rough. With a second, more powerful thrust, he was buried inside me, and we both moaned.

He gave me less than a second to adjust, and then he started slamming into me, his fingers digging into my hips. I cried out in pain and pleasure. He slid one hand up my back and into my hair, and he pulled my head up, the slight change in position bringing him deeper inside me.

‘So tight…’ he groaned.

The piano was shaking with the force of his thrusts. I could feel every inch of him, large, throbbing, owning me with each mighty lurch. I moaned his name – this seemed to excite him even more; without warning, he struck my buttock with his palm. The sweet pain sent a new wave of pleasure coursing through me. He brought his hand down again, and I moaned louder.

Pinned against the piano, I was powerless. He could do whatever he pleased with me.

Still pounding into me, he reached around my waist, took me in his hand and began stroking me. I whimpered, pleasure taking over my body, and I knew that I wouldn’t last much longer. He shifted only slightly, but it was the perfect position: I felt him against that spot, once, twice, too much; I was so close, ‘oh Jeeves please don’t stop’…

I reached my climax and he followed only seconds later. We slid to the floor and lay there panting, limbs tangled, hearts racing. I was drifting off to sleep when he kissed my forehead lovingly.

‘I hope I was not too harsh?’ he asked, concern painting his voice.

‘No, you were perfect,’ I smiled at him.

He ran his fingers lazily through my hair. ‘Did you enjoy it?’

‘Rather,’ I laughed, gesturing towards the piano, coated with my seed.

‘Then perhaps it is an activity worth revisiting?’

‘Absolutely.’

He wrapped his arms around me with a tenderness I cannot describe, and in this sweet contentment we were blind to the world, seeing only each other and our perfect, perfect happiness.

OP here and WOW O_O just WOW
That was bally pefect and so freakin hot!
I love you so much right now!

Jeeves/Bertie: bladder desperation
Sorry, but these two are such a perfect pairing for this kink either way around.
No wetting, just one of them growing more and more desperate to go but circumstances don't allow it for some time. And the other one, to his shock is terribly aroused by it but does his best to encourage the sufferer to stay calm and hold out. A successful relief without accident in the end. The other one may watch.

Hot DAMN! Thank you!!

Hot!

Non-sexual ageplay/age regression: Bertie is a Little and Jeeves is his caregiver. Could be written as a Classification/BDSM AU or as something both men decide to explore at one point. Author's choice :)

Bertie likes the feeling of Jeeves's cum inside him, Jeeves decides as an experiment, to fill Bertie up with his cum and then plug him for the afternoon.

Jeeves/Bertie, Jeeves POV, fully clothed frot against the wall, Bertie active and Jeeves has to hold still and be quiet but Jeeves is so into it.

It certainly wasn’t my intention to be frantically rubbing against Jeeves in the potting shed. And it wasn’t my intention to be frantically rubbing against Jeeves in the potting shed when we could hear the gardeners talking about the need to wear the azaleas on the other side of the wall.
What can I say? Since my manservant and I began our carnal relationship, I have been a bit...eager, shall we say. I never know when I’ll need to engage in an act with Jeeves. It had simply been too much for me this afternoon, watching Jeeves serve tea in the library in his impeccable uniform, white gloved mitts passing tea and biscuits to assembled family members. So when that afternoon he stopped outside for a cigarette, I pounced and dragged him off to the potting shed. This Wooster should be ashamed of himself, but when the need hits, well, shame takes a holiday.
It’s not as if Jeeves objected—not to the act itself, but to the suitability of performing it in the potting shed within earshot of some hearty working class types. He stood, not moving. But his blue eyes rolled up to the ceiling.
“Reg,” I gasped, feeling the bulge in his trousers against the bulge in my trousers. “Reg, I couldn’t stand it—watching you—“
“Sir,” he whispered, “Do lower your—voice—oh—“
“There’s something about the way you say, ‘would you like cake madam?’ that sets me on fire. Jeeves, Jeeves, Jeeves, you gorgeous man, you amazing man, oh god, oh dear me--”
“Bertie, please.” He put his strong hand over my mouth, stifling my most ungentlemanly grunts and gasps. This only made it worse. I wanted to scream!
I felt his body go stiff, and then he moaned as his orgasm hit. I followed, exploding, and dropped my head on his broad shoulder.
“Thank you, Reg,” I whispered, trying not to collapse. “Now let’s hide behind the shelves until they go away.”
“Bertram, my love, if only you could hold out until we reached the woods,” he whispered back.

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Let The Kinkiness Begin!

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FILL: Wet Clothes | Part 1

FILL: Wet Clothes | Part 2

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FILL: Against the Piano!

Re: FILL: Against the Piano!

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FILL: Adventures In The Potting Shed