Chapter Two-3

2009 Words
He wanted to talk to Nala again. Then instead of meditating he found himself dwelling on Shanelle some more. For a girl he’d never penetrated or even really kissed (her cheerfully spurning feet aside); for a woman he didn’t love or feel romantic toward at all, she’d certainly had a profound influence on him. He supposed he ought to be grateful, given the circumstances. Drake closed his eyes and remembered their last tryst. Not his wife, girlfriend or even a real lover, she’d again wanted to put a chastity device on him! Oh, how she’d be snickering now… *** The first few times they’d gotten together had been at Drake’s apartment. Their pursuits were embarrassingly noisy however, with all the slapping of straps, screams and exhortations. Once they’d learned enough trust, rooted in mutual understanding of the value of what they’d found in each other, they quickly changed the venue of their approximately weekly ‘workout’ sessions to Shanelle’s house. Her basement was most appropriately equipped. All that remained of the original recreational space was the keg-bearing bar at one end, a couch and the huge TV on the wall – though this now showed only an endless succession of bondage and domination videos. The rest of the big room had been remodeled into a fetishist’s private dungeon. Racks of implements, closets full of bondage gear and restraining devices for furniture were but the least of it. Gagged and wrapped in chains, Shanelle’s perpetually cuckolded husband Roy was kept locked in an oversized bird cage. Hanging there he was forced to witness even their companionable exchanges of flagellation for sodomy, or ‘pegging’ as the mistress of the house referred to it. Though Drake was always naked and Shanelle often close to it, there was really no infidelity involved. Drake suspected the guy was there as much as an abject object lesson to him as a source of enjoyment for his hosts. Finally Shanelle revealed her ultimate aim again. For the last few hours Drake had been locked into a set of stocks. His back latticed with welts and all splattered with dried candle wax, she had him bent way over with his extensively paddled, strapped and caned hindquarters thrust most invitingly up. He was facing that cage, trying to ignore Roy’s obvious anguish while the poor guy’s wife cried out repeated orgasms. Super-fit Shanelle, wearing only her strap-on c**k and a cup-less leather bra (the draping chains of which hid almost nothing of her protuberant little t**s) had been drilling him more tirelessly than ever. His neck and wrists galled raw, his bowed torso in agony, legs trembling helplessly and backside throbbing both inside and out, Drake still wasn’t anywhere near using his safe word. But at last his ‘Goddess’ hammered out one last climax and abandoned his ass. Panting in aftermath, Drake felt a hand between his legs. Shanelle gripped him and began stroking and bending his erection, testing the fierceness of its steely need. Drake groaned in harmony with the jealously watching hubby. “Bet you can’t wait to get home and jerk this thing.” Drake’s quavering plaint was confirmation enough. “That’s a filthy waste you know. You really ought to let your Goddess lock this up. Orgasms are far more satisfying when they’ve been earned over time. Isn’t that right, boy-toy Roy?” A mania of desperation flamed through blearing tears. The urgency of the nod was self-evidently honest. “Show him what you endure for me.” Bird-perched Roy spread his deeply bent knees. Not only was he spiked like a pedestal on a giant upright c**k in there; his own poor d**k was locked into a uselessly straining semicircle by the steel rings and piercings linking him inseparably balls-to-glans. “Having an outside authority control your orgasmic activity can do wonders for your body and spirit. Forget about meditating. Not only is all that otherwise squandered s****l energy kept safely contained. It is inevitably directed toward self-improvement. Roy darling, if I promised you sixty seconds of jerking yourself in exchange for sucking off Drake here, you’d leap at the opportunity, wouldn’t you dear? Don’t you always?” The flagrant mix of misery, self-disgust and eager hope certain to be crushed blazing in that red-rimmed gaze was as unfathomable as the even more eager agreement. Goddamn, dude… “See? And Roy’s as straight as you are, or at least he used to be. With the right lever you can move mountains, or even change the whole world.” “I like my world the way it is, I think,” Drake managed, unable escape the raving weight of that gaze. Meanwhile Shanelle was still fondling him. For a moment he’d felt such unreasoning allegiance to his dispenser of whipping and pegging that he’d almost caught himself considering her suggestion. Then she laughed and slapped his ass, and began releasing him from the stocks. Twenty minutes later Drake was home – and m**********g just as furiously as prophesied. Only suddenly he was picturing himself locked up forever and begging Shanelle for release. Instead she laughed, peed in his face and whipped-whipped-whipped and pegged-pegged-pegged him to within an inch of his life before leaving him all tied up and spiked on a dildo overnight, gagged and helpless in his own bedroom and watching impotently while she banged an endless succession of guys on what used to be his futon. Afterwards she had them… Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-aaaaaahhhhh! Damn, he’d come so hard the jizz hit the bottom of his chin! Now less than two weeks after that involuntary bout of insanity his c**k had been locked up indeed. And his whole world had been altered in his mistress’ image after all. It was a funny old multiverse all right. *** Drake looked down. Only one torch was left burning at the end of the corridor. It was enough for him to see the way his cage twitched with every throb of his terribly cramped c**k. With Jeff snoring next door he unselfconsciously tugged at it, trying uselessly to find a less confining position. Nala’s soft laugh startled him into blushing. “The small thrall is impatient to be drained.” Having arrived silently, she sat on the floor just outside his bars. Grateful for her lovely company (how many condemned men enjoy such a privilege?), Drake eased as close on his side as the chain to his collar allowed. “Your speech improves amazingly, Nala. And you are right. I would give myself to you right now if I could.” Nala’s smile was proud and wistful both. “I am an Afflicter, not a Seer. My mystic gifts are small. They help me learn, and to read a thrall though his movements and smells as much as his words. But I have no talent to make use of the passions I have been trained to stimulate. And draining men is for the Empress only. Still if I am lucky, and earn favor by convincing you to be willing, I may be chosen to attend Jia while she feeds on you. Then we will have our fun together, you and I.” “Do some men really enjoy it, Nala? Being drained, I mean?” “Many men did once. Now it is usually only outworlders, like you. I have heard the Sisterhood’s arts, while keeping our armies from rape and other bad behaviors, have bred too much fear and weakness into our men. Plus as desirable as Jia is, her size and might tend to scare more than just men. Some maids too are afraid; others very sorry after. You feel opposite, yes?” ‘Yes, Nala. Mighty women excite me. Even being tortured by them excites me. Right now I want you to whip me so bad...” “You want more. I smell your craving and shame. You want s*x as women have it. This is good. Always Afflicters do this. Most men suffer much. If you enjoy, that makes you special a hundred times. Giant Jia may take you herself, feed on lust and thrill as well as pain and shame.” Drake tugged at his cramping again. Belatedly realizing what he was doing and why, he looked up to see Nala had shifted her harness and was rubbing her own crotch. Her gaze had glazed with fantasizing. “You are so very rare, thrall, in so many attractive ways. Even your size has come to be appealing to me. If only you were sold on open market! I would have you for mine always. I would hurt and pleasure and excite you endlessly. I would f**k you every way, every day. I would suck and try to drain you nightly. I grieve that this can never be.” Drake regretted it a million times worse. He nodded at her diddling fingers. “If you come in here, I will tongue and suck that for you. Do your men do that here?” Nala laughed, regarding him fondly. “You want to do s*x like a woman again. Only maids and girls together do that. What man could possibly know how? I would let you try though. I would squash and rub and hump – very rough and fun anyway. But not tonight. Seers cannot be fooled. I must get permission before unlocking this door. Instead, I must do for myself. You will watch, and grow ever more eager for your cage to come off.” “I can’t wait,” said Drake, to both prospects. It seemed frustrated voyeurism was in his destiny after all as well. But seriously: did Nala just agree to let him eat her p***y? *** It seemed she had. But it wasn’t until two days later that the affectionate Afflicter returned to do so. And by then Drake was all alone in his little cellblock. They’d come for Jeff shortly after dinner. As thralls they were provided vegetables and even meat along with their bread and water. The knowledge that they were only being fattened for a feast didn’t deter Drake’s appetite. The longer he lasted in this Empress’ embrace the better. Jeff by contrast could hardly swallow. He knew his time was nearly up and his despair only increased as his bizarre execution approached. Sometimes he wept quietly or prayed. More often he just sat and stared morosely at nothing. When a pair of bald Afflicters finally appeared (neither of them Nala) and moved to unlock his cell however, he managed to maintain dignity. “Looks like this is it. So long, brother. It was good getting to know you. I’m glad I didn’t have to face this alone.” “Yeah.” Unable to reach to shake hands, Drake sketched him a little salute. “You’re a good man, Jeff. I’m sorry this happened to you. But I’m glad you were there for me too. At least it proves I’m not dreaming. Stay strong, brother.” “I’ll try. You…well, enjoy it for both of us. I think I’m about to puke and piss myself, personally.” He gave a weak chuckle as he was led away, which was certainly better than Bill’s weeping and shrieking. Drake saluted him again as he disappeared, a guy who’d certainly deserved better from his family, culture and luck. After that Drake was left alone to try to settle his competing feelings. Sorrow for Jeff led to resentment over the injustice of their abduction. Regardless of their needs and his own proclivities, nothing gave these women the right to steal their lives. Murder was a crime in any society, to say nothing of random kidnapping. At the same time, this ruthless victimization stirred the submissive compulsion Shanelle had cultivated in him tremendously. And despite that dark excitement Drake still harbored a very real fear of his approaching extinction. Try as he might to disguise and subsume this by ‘making the most of things’, terror and despair and poignant regret over decades of opportunity denied remained as much a threat as they had for Jeff. Fortunately Drake had help in fortifying his defenses. After giving him just enough time to mourn his friend and sort through his torn emotions, that blessed distraction came to his rescue. Doors had quit clanging and torches winked out. Not even trying to meditate, Drake slouched against the stone wall at his back. In the dancing yellow of the lone remaining light he thought about how he’d give anything right now for a good long repetitive paper-scissors-rock tournament. Then the door to the cellblock opened and beaming Nala slipped inside, closing it just as softly behind her. “I have come for you, little one.” Teeth gleamed in the dim and big dark eyes twinkled. “The great mistress has given her permission. She is gratified by your willingness and amused by your wishes. I am allowed to test you and prime you for her, though not to exhaust your eagerness. Do you still wish to afflict me, delicious young thrall?”
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