I found out I actually can work after skipping the sleep thing, it's just a bit harder. ;) Don't mind the typos, I wrote this going on three hours of not very pleasant rest.
Find the entire story here!
Luckily, the talk with Ilydra had ended on a positive note. Her delight over Rhysling’s plans for his human pet had made her giggle and swoon, and the boisterous chat had almost made Rhys forget the time.
He felt invigorated, a mood only strengthened by the soft sighs and moans welcoming him to his private quarters. Rhys may have been able to move like spider’s silk in a breeze, quick like lightning on a cold spring night, but creeping towards the bound, helpless, lustful man still felt like a child’s game of hide and seek. He felt clumsy and giddy, with prickling fingertips and reddening cheeks.
Stopping in the shade of the doorway, he took a moment to let his eyes wander over the human’s body. The Dragon’s Tail in the wound salve had set his body on fire to such an extent that not even the cool breeze of the room could keep him from sweating. The wounds had closed beautifully, if probably painfully, leaving the stitches as cruel, dark reminders of past torture, and a healthy, rosy color had bled all through his pale body. Niro was hanging in the shackles like so much dead weight at this moment, but Rhys had no illusions about the inner turmoil he was still going through; Dragon’s Tail was like a whip to that hot knot deep inside each living being, slapping their lust and need to screaming life, just to let it fade and then repeat the cycle.
Rhysling stepped into the bed chamber with a resolute sigh and walked towards the bound man. Niro’s reaction was slow, but when he finally raised his head to stare at his master, there was still fire in his eyes. Oh, the things that human probably wished on Rhys!
The Ailill slowly circled around the splayed and bound body, smiling at the sight of his hard, dripping manhood, and trailed over to his commode nonchalantly. As he opened the drawers and rummaged through his private garments, he could feel his pet’s angry look burn into the back of his head, but for now, both of them kept their quiet, visually stalking each other.
Rhys carefully took off his tunic, folded it and set it on top of the commode. This broke the spell and the human couldn’t stay quiet any longer.
He snarled, trying his best not to sound as breathless as he probably was. “Let me go, you bastard.”
“Your erection looks painful,” Rhys pointed out, taking a flask of oil and a pair of clamps out of the drawer before closing it.
The human twitched, blushed and started tugging on the chains. “That’s none of your business, elf,” he hissed angrily. The heated flushes were racing over his taut body, almost as if following Rhys’ gaze to wherever his eyes wandered, but his eyes settled on those rosy, perky nipples. Rhys wandered closer, sliding onto the bed in front of Niro in nothing but his dark linen pants, just close enough to be able to touch him, but with enough distance to enjoy the whole sight.
“I plan on making it my business,” he purred, adjusted the first clamp in his fingers to a rather soft setting, and held it up. “Do you know what this is?”
Niro frowned. “No.”
Rhys smiled a slow smile. This was going better than anticipated. Reactions to the Dragon’s Tail weren’t always a true indicator for a person’s sexual desires, but he had seen the human’s reaction to the first stages of whipping. It had been promising, very much so, and today he would find out if he had been right in his judgement of the bound man. With a quick, agile movement, he slipped the first clamp over Niro’s right nipple, letting it snap closed and retreating before the first gasp wafted out of Niro’s mouth.
It wasn’t the tightest or strongest clamp Rhys had, but the human shuddered and hissed anyway. His eyes widened with the sudden, increasing burn, then a shiver ran through his body and right into his manhood, making it twitch and throb and drip clear fluids. His face was a mask of surprised pain, but the rest of his body spoke a different, lewder language.
“Let me go, you damned bastard! No, don’t—”
Rhys had to fight down his own excited shiver when the second clamp bit into Niro’s left nipple, cutting off his curses and sending his body into short, tempered convulsions as he fought his twitching body for air. Sweat rolled down the male’s prone body, slithering down the grooves and dimples between his prominent muscles and finally disappearing either into the bush of pubic hair, or dripping down into the bedding. The air was filled with the tangy aroma of arousal and fear, sweet, cloying and heady. The sight was almost too much, too inviting, too decadent to stand, but Rhys kept his prickling fingers in check.
“Say you want me to touch you,” he demanded, outwardly calm where inside, he was anything but serene. His teeth itched with the need to leave a mark on the already scarred body, and with a lust for other, darker things. The hunger that was unique to his kind reared its ugly head, tempering his giddy desire with a thread of fear. The knowledge of what would happen if he lost control was enough to rein in his appetite. For now.
The human tugged on his chains, snarling at him, even though his cock jumped in beat with his pulse, dripping a steady stream of pre-come. “Never!” he barked.
Rhys flicked one of the clamps with a hand gesture quick as a striking snake, his fingers pulling back just as fast as they had thrust forward, sending a ripple of burning pain through the sensitive nub. Niro bucked in agony, groaning loudly as the waves of pain and pleasure rushed through his tense body, blushing even deeper when his lance dribbled another line of excited liquid.
“Say it. You know you want it,” Rhys said, leaning closer as he flared his nostrils against the stink of human excitement. Such crude creatures they were, those humans, but there was something about that raw, violent energy that was simply too attractive to turn away from.
The question sent another shiver through Niro. His face clearly stated how close he was to spilling himself, how desperately he wanted to, and how alien the concept of being touched really was to him. His face didn’t so much look like the expression of someone trying to withstand lust, but rather someone who didn’t connect touching with desire. And he desperately didn’t want to come like this, shackled and tortured and watched by a stranger.
His usual game wouldn’t work on that one, Rhys saw that. “You are a virgin, are you not?” he purred, and flicked the other clamp with just as careful a force as the first one, humming happily when Niro bucked and groaned through gnashed teeth and goosebumps. But this time, instead of waiting for an answer, Rhys didn’t let him come down. The Ailill wrapped his long fingers around the weeping length and gave it an experienced tug from root to tip, just once.
Niro shouted, more out of surprised euphoria than with pain, and exploded violently. The orgasm raced through his body like a wave of stinging heat, tightening muscles in his stomach and crotch that he hadn’t known he possessed until now, cut off his air, and made him thrust into the tight, hot-wet grip around his length before he knew what he was doing. Little stars danced through his sight as he sagged into the chains, gasping for air and groaning at the same time, all but boneless with ecstasy.
Rhys lifted his soiled hand and watched the globs of white semen thread a web between his fingers, fighting down another wave of hunger that came with the beautiful sight. And to think, that human would be his for however long he wanted him…
“Now you understand, don’t you? We will try this again, but no free rides for you anymore. The next time, you will have to ask for it,” he said and watched Niro’s eyes widen as he raised his hand again, towards his nipple, just as promised. This would be a long night, Rhys promised himself.
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