Derik's Luck 20

From TSade

[edit] Sleeping

He couldn’t sleep.

Despite his best efforts, he kept shifting in place, fighting against his bindings, trying to find some comfortable position. His wrists burned from where he twisted, but Madre’s knots were far beyond his ability to slip free. After a few moments, he would try to settle down, but his movements nudged the hard plug in his ass against his delicate nerves, sending up tiny flares of pleasure coursing through his system. Sweat beading on his forehead, he tried to force himself to hold rock-steady, but then Madre or Nightingale would move, igniting the same maddening sensations through his body.

The burning of his ass cheeks seemed to glow in his mind and he wish he could distract himself with anything besides the his helplessness. Blind, he could only focus on the sensations, magnifying them with his focus as he felt every twitch of the plug in his ass or every twinge from his paddled ass.

To make things worse, the bed shook hard as Madre fucked Nightingale, no doubt with some strap-on. He could smell their excitement and he could feel the body movement, but it only increased his feelings of being trapped. He struggled with focus on his body, but then he would feel the pressure in his rectum, filling him like... like a man would fuck his ass. The pleasures that curled through his thoughts started fires in his loins. He could feel the precum dripping from his shaft, soaking his leg. He tried not to think about it; he could still take his own juices in the back of his throat.

If he focused on their movements, he started to imagine their position. How Madre’s buttocks would flex as she rammed some huge cock into Nightingale’s pussy. Just the thought of it only increased the heat in his shaft, forcing it to drool even more across his leg and soak the blankets underneath.

Damned no matter how he focused.

They fucked for what felt like hours. Hours of pounding and shaking, of the muted moans that drifted past his senses. He could feel them changing position and hear the wet slurping of fingers and tongues. And he was helplessly. So utterly helplessly.

And it only turned him on more.

Maddeningly, he could feel each breath escaping around the ball gag. His mouth ached with the ball prying his teeth apart, but like the plug in his ass, he was utterly helpless to remove it. He felt the little bit of sanity crumbling under the assault of pleasures on his body. Striving to protect it, to defend that last bit of his own dignity, he desperately tried to find something to distract him.

Then, he found something. The Eye of Hamel.

He hated it.

He hated how it rolled away from him, teased him almost.

But, it kept his mind away from the thick intruder buried in his rectum.

He thought about the great hall, the four statues that held up that glass map. For a brief moment, he didn’t feel the discomfort of his bondage or even the solid slamming of cock into pussy. Grasping on the thought, he just imagined himself jumping around the room, racing to avoid the acidic traps or swinging across the room. He reviewed the entire theft and expanded on it. He counted the tiles in his mind and even the footsteps of the guards. He threw all of his imagination into that room, in desperate hope to not suffer through his bondage.

It only partially helped, but it passed the long seconds of the night.

Somewhere, sometime, he felt Nightingale shifting position, sliding down as Madre let out a guttural moan. Nightingale’s feet teased his stomach. He clenched up, tightening his gut as her soft toes strokes around his belly button. He could feel her body moving and imagined her head lapping up between Madre’s legs. His delicate imagination of the theft shattered as his cock grew harder, soaking his leg again.

As she pleasured Madre, Nightingale’s feet worked lower, to press her toes against his groin. He whimpered softly, wondering if she found some measure forgiveness for him.

When she ground his cock against her feet, he realized there was no god. He whimpered and tried to escape, but she caught him, twisting his cock with her feet even as she brought Madre to one orgasm, than the other.

She didn’t move when they finished. She kept her feet pressing down on his cock and balls, increasing the pressure of the thick plug buried in her ass. He could almost imagine her smile as she shifted into a comfortable position and drifted back to sleep. He tried to follow, but a few seconds later, she twitched and brought him to full wakefulness again.

Whimpering, he tried to twist away, but she kept him silently pinned with just her feet.

The long night turned even longer. Every time he felt precum dripping down his shaft, she would grind down. Every time he twitched or shifted position, she would squeeze his balls on the sole of her feet or between her toes. Every movement would bring pleasure and pain storming through his thoughts.

Every second passed with glacial slowness.

Every pulse of his heart seemed to slow down more than the one before it.

Every moment turned into an eternity of discomfort, balancing on the edge of some pleasure and the agony of Nightingale’s tortures.

And he cried. Softly to himself, muffled by the ball gag and helpless to escape, he just cried.

Morning came after centuries, when Madre pulled the blindfold from his eyes and he blinked at the light. Somehow, he missed Nightingale’s parting from the room and he tried to lift his head.

“Did you sleep?”

Lips still tightly stretched around the ball gag, he could only shake his head. She smiled softly and reached behind his head, unbuckling the gag and giving him the first feeling of freedom.

His jaw seized up and he whimpered, trembling. Madre worked his bonds, freeing him even as she whispered to him.

“Now, don’t move right away. Just hold still, Dora.”

He obeyed, despite the screaming need to move that built up over the night. When she reached the bounds of his ankles, he felt her fingers briefly stroke his cock.

“Was Nightingale playing with you?”

He wasn’t sure of torture was playing, but he nodded anyways.

“All night?”

Derik didn’t want to answer. He looked away, but he nodded anyways.

“Did you enjoy it?”

Tears burned at his face as he remembered her tortures. He almost nodded, then once again Madre’s demand for the truth compelled him. He shook his head.

“Damn, I was hoping she would finally get over this.”

With surprising strength, Madre picked Derik completely off the bed. He felt pins and needles screaming through his limbs as he collapsed against her, holding her tightly as tears streamed down his face. She brought him to the tub and lowered him into it.

“There you go, it will pass, it will pass...”

He sobbed while leaning on her, helpless as a baby. His limbs refused to move for the longest moment, flame burning at his senses. He could feel the thick plug still up inside him, but his fingers refused to unclench. His jaw spasmed for a moment, but he managed to calm down before the muscles in his throat tightened up.

“It will get easier, you know. Next time, it will be just you and me. No more Nightingale,” she spoke sadly, “I hoped that she would get over this, but these things take time. And she is a very angry kitten, always angry about something.”

As she spoke, she stroked him along the cheeks and shoulders, not sexual and comforting as he felt his body relaxing minutely. She brushed her cheek against his own.

“I won’t do that again, Dora. Next time, just you and me.”

He grunted noncommittally. She reached up to grab his cock, holding it firmly until he looked at her.

“Excuse me?”

His voice came out as a hoarse whisper, “Y-Yes, Madre.”

“Good.”

She grinned and soaped up her hands, standing him in front of her as she bathed him. At the feel of the slick soap and her hands, his body began to respond despite the long night of torture. His balls, aching from a night of no release, seemed to grind themselves into his cock. Madre just continued to lather him up. Her fingers finally reached his sore buttocks and he spread his legs obediently. Fingers working up into him, his cock surged to full mast as she pulled out the immense plug from his ass.

Letting out a groan, he almost came and collapsed at the same time. Madre caught him and pulled him to her. He felt his cock press against his throat as she steadied him. Looking down, she raised an eyebrow.

“Did you come?”

He shook his head.

She looked around the room at no one, then took her soapy hands to lather up her cleavage. Pressing his cock between them, she squeezed her breast around his shaft.

“Enjoy your chance.”

It took him a second to register and he rocked against her. It was soft and smooth against his member. He clutched her shoulder, not daring to touch her hair as he began to fuck her breasts. After a night of torture, he was surprised it took so long for him to come, but he finally did, adding his cum to the soap of her breasts.

Once he slumped against her, she let him sink deep into the water.

“Finish washing me and get some sleep.”

Exhausted, he found the strength to do his duties as the new girl. Out of the tub, he struggled to dress and needed Madre’s help to pull the bra and panties on, to once again hide his masculinity from the world.

“Go on, get some sleep.”

This time, he obeyed without question or hesitation.

“Yes, Madre.”