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Polar Explorer RPF - Prompt Post 1
This is for prompts for all things general Polar Explorer RPF.
If you've filled (or started filling) a prompt, please make sure to link it in the comments of the Fills Post. And if you would like to cross-post your fills on AO3, here is the collection!
Under this umbrella you can prompt:
Prompts in line with adaptations of Heroic Age stories can also fit here, for example if you want to specifically prompt Hugh Grant!Cherry from The Last Place On Earth getting wrecked (which someone really should).
No blorbo too obscure for this post! EXCEPT: NO PEARY ALLOWED. God I hate that guy.
Rules:
Regular view: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/925.html
Regular view, last page: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/925.html?page=999#comments
If you've filled (or started filling) a prompt, please make sure to link it in the comments of the Fills Post. And if you would like to cross-post your fills on AO3, here is the collection!
Under this umbrella you can prompt:
- Historical versions of Franklin Expedition(-adjacent) guys (Rossier, Gore/McClure, etc)
- Madhouse at the End of the Earth/Belgica Expedition
- Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration - Shackleton, Scott, Amundsen, Mawson
- Andrée Expedition
- Karluk Expedition
- etc
Prompts in line with adaptations of Heroic Age stories can also fit here, for example if you want to specifically prompt Hugh Grant!Cherry from The Last Place On Earth getting wrecked (which someone really should).
No blorbo too obscure for this post! EXCEPT: NO PEARY ALLOWED. God I hate that guy.
Rules:
1. Be fucking nice. YKINMATO/KINKTOMATO at all times.
2. This meme is CNTW (Choose Not To Warn) but warnings are highly encouraged.
3. Prompts should use this format in the subject line: [SHIP], [DESCRIPTION]
e.g.
Mertz/Ninnis, sex crying
Solo gen can be prompted as well alongside (a) character name and description
e.g.
Gen, Emil Racovitza, discovering a crazy new fish
4. Fills should use this format in the subject line: FILL: [TITLE], [PAIRING], [RATING], [ANY WARNINGS]
e.g.
Fill: The Very Next Day, Cherry/Birdie, E, cw self-harm
5. One prompt per comment please.
6. Multiple fills for each prompt are welcome!
7. You don't have to be anon for your prompts or your fills but we do encourage it because of the vibe. You're also welcome to deanon your stuff by posting on AO3/Tumblr as you please!
8. Feedback on prompts and fills is AWESOME; please take longer conversations to the discussion post.
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Cherry/Wilson, E, <i>Dressing-down</i>, caning
(Anonymous) 2023-02-17 10:18 pm (UTC)(link)"Oh!" The young man looks up at him from his seat at the wardroom table. "Gosh, I'm awfully -"
"Were you wearing your glasses when you did this one?"
Bill is irate in spite of himself. Cherry's hand on the table twitches as if he might snatch up the specs lying inches away.
"I don't need them for close work, Bill, you know I - "
"Mr Cherry-Garrard!" Bill raises his voice to a shout; it is ill-advised and intemperate but he cannot help himself. "Were you or were you not wearing your glasses when you ruined the usefulness of this specimen?"
Cherry looks down. Perhaps he thinks to hide his blushes, but the tips of his ears have reliably reddened. He takes a moment to reply.
"I wasn't," he replies in a voice scarcely more than a whisper, "I'm sorry, sir."
Cherry's contrite embarrassment brings Bill back from his fit of pique. He needn't have been so harsh on the fellow - young Apsley wants a bit of direction, is all.
"It's all right, Cherry," he sighs, "I'll sit with you the next few birds. We can catch another specimen before New Zealand I'm certain of it. I oughtn’t to have snapped at you."
Cherry looks up, wide-eyed and still flushed visibly red. He does take his glasses now, and puts them on before nodding determinedly. But there is something else.
"Are you quite well, Cherry?"
He nods. There is a dewy quality to his complexion, too healthful to be feverish.
"Ah, yes. It's only your shouting, it rather put me in mind of the masters at school - when a boy was spoiling for a caning."
Bill mulls this over for a moment. Cherry's eyes are wide and dark behind his glasses.
"Were you often in trouble, then?"
Cherry shakes his head.
"No, hardly ever," he looks back down at his hands, "but I do wonder if I wouldn’t have been better for a caning or two all the same. It might have done me the world of good."
Bill turns away from Cherry and pinches the bridge of his nose in thought.
"We'll make Port Chalmers in - what? Five days?
*
The gentle chime of birdsong drifts in through the window. Bill traces Cherry's exposed arse with the tip of the cane.
"At least those poor bellbirds won't have to suffer under your ministrations, Cherry-Garrard."
He draws back the cane, swinging it down for another satisfying thwack onto Cherry’s behind.
The birds cry, startle and are off; the lad whimpers into the desk. As ever, Cherry takes instruction wonderfully and has done his utmost to remain still and silent. His endeavour to make not even the smallest sound render those few that escape his bitten lips all the more precious.
"Cherry-Garrard," he tells him in detached tones, "you are young for your age and overreach your abilities in trying to impress the older boys."
A few quick strikes to the same spot. Bill is lucky the cane requires more skill than strength to wield.
"Do you think yourself capable of doing every job to perfection?"
"No b-but I -" Cherry stammers, before Bill interrupts him with a stinging swipe.
"Did I say you could speak?"
Silence, except for Cherry's breaths coming in little whimpers.
"Good boy."
He delivers several more strikes in quick succession, Cherry’s body trembling under them. Over the course of the blows, his stance has shifted. His legs are wider apart, the neat sack of his balls now visible and so too the lightly furred cleft between his arse-cheeks.
The sensation of the beating must have made Cherry less able to hold his position; pummelled into this wanton display. And yet Bill can't help but feel that Cherry is presenting himself to be mated, just as one sees in the animal kingdom. The thought of burying himself in hot home of the boy's body is an appealing one, but he does not let himself become lost in it: there is work yet to be done.
"You will make a fool of yourself if you do not learn your limits, Cherry-Garrard. The other fellows are burly, hardened men. You are smaller and less able than you imagine."
Cherry's body is lean but muscular, more so than one would think to look at him. In fact, if their roles were reversed, he could deliver a more ferocious beating than Bill can. He considers it for a moment, the possibility of coaxing timid Cherry into giving him a real thrashing.
It's an amusing thought, but one for another time. Cherry's need is greater just at present, and there are others he can turn to for his own needs, few that they are. Bill knows how mortification can clarify one's feelings, pleasantly dulling the mind while sharpening one's senses to a needlepoint. There is a divine quality to the sensation, and Cherry needs that focus now, will need it even more when the real hardships of their voyage descend.
Thwack.
Against instructions, Cherry lets out a little cry. One of his knees is bent, the toes pressing desperately into to the floor like the pointed foot of a ballerina.
Bill traces where Cherry's arse meets his legs with the cane. Between them he can see that Cherry's balls are reddened. He hasn't hit them - they flush in sympathy with his arse. The hang close to his body and are the fleshly pink of ripening fruit. He cannot see the man's pretty cock, but Bill sure it is hard and leaking against the desk. He wonders if Cherry knows how very enticing he is, wearing the red stripes of a punished schoolboy on his round little arse.
Bill has seen Cherry naked already, of course, working and washing and larking about aboard ship. Cherry’s form changes week by week; it strengthens, roughened and tanned by the hard work he seems to revel in. Bill's seen how the other fellows let their gazes linger on Cherry's body, safe in the knowledge that without his glasses the boy can't catch them leering.
He hits him again with the cane, harder, perhaps, than he means to.
“The other boys are going to see these marks, Cherry-Garrard,” he tells him, panting from the exertion, “if you insist on parading around in front of them again. What do you think they will make of them?”
Wind rustles through the trees at the window. They are both panting.
“You may answer.”
“They will,” Cherry’s voice is small and weak, as if coming from a great distance away, “they will know I’ve been misbehaving.”
“They will see,” says Bill, striking him again, Cherry yelping in surprise, “what a silly little boy you have been, and how all your money cannot buy good sense."
Cherry's shoulders heave in what must be a sob, but he does not ask Bill to stop. A few more good hits should do it.
"They will know that you are such a child in all things that you need to be punished like one."
He keeps the blows coming.
"It is disgraceful, at your age, to require such a thing. You have been spoiled, Cherry-Garrard, you have grown into a soft boy who still requires a bit of discipline. Thank heavens there is someone who cares about you enough to show you some real love, you crude. Little. Infant."
With that final strike, Cherry wails and shudders on the desk like a pinned butterfly - from this loss of all control Bill is sure he has climaxed. His suspicion is confirmed by a dribble of semen onto the carpet below Cherry's hips. His own arousal, present but a matter of little importance, he sets to one side.
He sets down the cane, approaching Cherry carefully. His face has been squashed against the desk, his glasses are still on but rather askew and fogged up. Bill removes them gently, wiping the tear-splotched lenses on the soft fabric of his own shirt before placing them back on the table.
“Come along now, Cherry,” he says, dropping his role as strict disciplinarian. He places an arm around the lad’s shoulders, encouraging him up from the desk and over onto his front on the bed. “Stay there,” he instructs him, “I’ll get something to clean you up, and we'll see what we can do to ease the pain."
Cherry reaches out blearily for Bill instead, clutching his waist and wriggling up to press his face into his chest. His breaths are hot and warm, the presence of his limp, blissed out body all temptation.
"I'd’ve been ever so bad if you were my schoolmaster, Bill," murmurs Cherry into his shirt front.
"Well I am, and you mustn't be," says Bill. "Now let me take care of you. I believe we've a dance to attend tonight."
Re: Cherry/Wilson, E, <i>Dressing-down</i>, caning
(Anonymous) 2023-02-17 10:50 pm (UTC)(link)Bill's seen how the other fellows let their gazes linger on Cherry's body, safe in the knowledge that without his glasses the boy can't catch them leering.
THIS BIT WOOF!!!!! I DIE
Re: Cherry/Wilson, E, <i>Dressing-down</i>, caning
(Anonymous) 2023-02-18 02:04 am (UTC)(link)Re: Cherry/Wilson, E, <i>Dressing-down</i>, caning
(Anonymous) 2023-02-18 05:33 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Cherry/Wilson, E, <i>Dressing-down</i>, caning
(Anonymous) 2023-02-24 09:57 pm (UTC)(link)... jesus