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the voices in my head won’t leave me alone

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What do we have here? Came Ruin’s voice, slithery and soft- like a ribbon around his neck, tightening, tightening. 

 

Rashek grit his teeth, and his hand stilled. “Leave me,” He hissed. Ruin just laughed, and Rashek’s face flushed. He had been alive longer than any sane man, it seemed, and yet he still felt embarrassment. Annoying. 

 

But why would I leave when the fun is just beginning? Ruin crooned. 

 

The god in his ear was infinitely more annoying than any embarrassment. Ruin had left him alone for so long, Rashek almost thought he had finally left him to rule his empire in peace. Perhaps that was why, after such a long period of disinterest, he had indulged himself.

 

Of course, it made sense that now would be when Ruin reentered the scene, with Rashek sprawled out in his room and fist wrapped around his long-neglected cock. Maybe Ruin had been waiting for this.

 

Rashek couldn’t decide what the winning move would be here. Continue in his activities and pretend Ruin holds no sway over him? Or stop, and refuse to let himself be mocked?

 

It was a tricky decision.

 

After several moments of pause, Ruin had fallen silent. Perhaps his attention was elsewhere. Rashek’s own attention turned downward, where his cock still twitched in the open air, swollen and needy. 

 

Rashek sighed, and stroked upward, running his thumb over his faintly leaking tip and getting back into the mood. He jerks himself off lazily- he’s not in any particular rush. Immortality does that to a person.

 

Its been a while for you, hasn’t it? Ruin comments. Rashek startles and swears. Ruin chuckles. Oh, no, don’t stop on my account. 

 

“I told you to leave me,” Rashek growls aloud. 

 

You don’t command me, little tyrant, Ruin whispers. I rather think I’m the one pulling the strings.

 

Rashek scoffs, and strokes his cock. “You don’t control me,” he murmurs. “You never have.”

 

Wouldn’t you want me to? Ruin replies, silky voice moving like a shiver down his back. To control you... to hold down your hands and pin your hips and steal pleasure from your cock. Wouldn’t you like that?

 

“Shut up,” Rashek commands, but damn it all, his voice is shaking and his hand is still moving on his erection. 

 

You would, Ruin muses. Maybe I would bind your hands and feet to the bed, leave you spread out wide and vulnerable. Perhaps you’d curse at me, like you do now. Or perhaps you would moan and gasp, unable to do anything else.

 

Rashek gives no response. He doesn’t trust himself to. 

 

I’d wrap a hand around that cock of yours, I think, tightly around the base to keep you from your release until I’ve had my fill. I’d slick my other hand, and open you up just enough, Ruin purrs.

 

A growl rips out of Rashek’s throat. His lazy pace from earlier is forgotten, and he pumps his cock furiously, arousal and shame mixing in his gut.

 

Just barely enough, yes, and then I’d take you. I’d take you because you are mine, and you have been mine ever since the day you held that power.

 

“I’m not-“ Rashek grits out, but Ruin just laughs. 

 

You’re mine, he says, in a tone that allows no room for discussion. Look at you right now- touching yourself so desperately to the things I say.

 

Rashek forces himself to a stop, as if to prove a point.

 

Suddenly, an image appears in front of him, and Rashek startles back. It’s just a mirage, a hallucination, he tells himself, but it’s there nonetheless. It’s the image of a man with red hair, smirking, it’s naked body braced over Rashek’s. The illusion is pale but freckled, surprisingly small and slender, a sprinkling of ginger hair leading down it’s abdomen to its own cock, maybe longer than Rashek’s but thinner. The phantom’s hand trails across Rashek’s cheek, imparting no sensation. 

 

Why did you stop? Ruin whispers, and the phantom’s lips move in unison. The illusion leans back until it appears he is sitting just in front of Rashek’s cock, and had it been real, Rashek may have been able to feel him pressing against it.

 

Rashek scowls, and makes to sit up, but the illusion slams a hand against his chest, and Rashek freezes. Then, inexplicably, he lets himself fall back down. The phantom smiles.

 

Good. Stay down there, Ruin commands. Rashek grits his teeth, but complies. The phantom reaches behind him, and curls his fingers around Rashek’s. Keep going.

 

And Rashek keeps going. He’s too far gone to stop now. He knows Ruin can’t read his mind, but the mirage smiles knowingly anyway. 

 

You want this, little tyrant. You want this more than you’ll admit. The illusion leans in, and licks his lips. It’s easier just to let me have you, isn’t it? I don’t even have to be truly here to wreck you. And I will wreck you.

 

Something dark and monstrous glitters in the illusion’s eyes. Rashek shudders. Your other hand, Ruin instructs. Bring your fingers to your mouth and suck them.

 

Rashek does as he is commanded. His skin tastes salty with sweat, and his rings clink against his teeth. He had taken off the rings on his other hand before this, but he had not been expecting to do this. He does it anyway. 

 

Flare your tin and tap sensation, Ruin whispers, and then Rashek can feel every drag of skin on his cock and his tongue detects every little taste and texture on his fingers and the sheets under him become so much more textile and he is almost drowning—

 

Isn’t this good? Ruin purrs. Rashek finds himself nodding helplessly, and his orgasm pools in his stomach, a hot, writhing thing—

 

Ruin must see it on his face, or detect it in the way his hand stutters then speeds, because the illusion snarls viciously, hand on his chest turning into ineffective claws. 

 

NO! Ruin roars. You’ll come when I say you can come, and not a moment sooner.

 

Rashek stumbles to a stop, orgasm stumbling and collapsing, unsatisfactory. He longs to continue, but he obeys. He doesn’t know why.

 

Take your hand off your cock, Ruin orders. Rashek hesitates, but does as he is told, albeit reluctantly. The illusion smiles predatorily. Ruin sighs mournfully. I should like to bite you, but I have no teeth. We will make do. Touch your nipples.

 

Rashek does, and although there’s not much sensation from doing so to himself, the tin helps make up for that. Ruin hums, pleased, his earlier rage replaced by calm certainty. Your hand is wet enough now. Finger yourself, Rashek. He whispers. 

 

And so he does. He folds his knees up, and reaches down past his aching cock. He presses his middle finger in past the ring of muscle there, twitching and shaking. The drag of spit as lubricant is rough, but feels right somehow. Ruin wants it to hurt like that. 

 

He’s still forgotten to take off those rings, and his hips buck as the cold metal bumps against his sensitive flesh. The illusion grins, and moves back, until he’s between Rashek’s open legs. He dips his hand where Rashek’s is, so it almost looks like the illusion is the one touching him. 

 

And you had the gall to pretend you weren’t under my control. You certainly don’t look in control now, ‘Lord Ruler’. Ruin mocked. Hard and wanting... or rather, needing, the very deity you’ve previously disdained. But now you do just as I say, don’t you? All this show about being powerful, and yet, you’re still a slut for me, aren’t you?

 

Rashek whines involuntarily, much to his horror. He immediately clamps the closer hand across his mouth to keep any more sounds like that from escaping.

 

Ruin does not like that.

 

Move your hand, he demands. I did not give you permission to do that.

 

Rashek doesn’t obey this time. The illusion’s face darkens, and he leans forward, baring his teeth. Sudden, completely irrational fear spikes through Rashek.

 

Move. Your. Hand.

 

Rashek drags his hand away, and fists it into the sheets instead. The illusion nods, and moves back.

 

Now you can move your other hand, Ruin purrs, almost invitingly. Rashek begins to rock his finger in and out of himself, beginning slowly as he tries to grow accustomed to the feeling.

 

You follow my orders so well, Ruin praises. You must have been desperate for this. For someone to control you like I can. For someone to make you so... helpless.

 

Rashek’s breath hitches. The illusion looks down upon him indulgently.

 

Crook your fingers, up, towards your—

 

Rashek cries out suddenly, interrupting him. His fingers brushed across something right there, something very good—

 

He presses against it again, and moans brokenly, panting. 

 

You’ve found it then, Ruin comments. It feels good, doesn’t it? Rashek nods, a little desperately. Ruin giggles.

 

You can use your other hand now, he whispers. Touch your cock, my little slut.

 

Rashek groans. He grabs his cock, and begins to stroke himself quickly, in tandem to the hand that still moves inside him.

 

He’s unraveling. Falling apart.

 

“I’m- I- Can I-“ Rashek stumbles.

 

Can you what? Your going to have to use your words, Rashek. I can’t read minds. 

 

“Damn it all- I’m almost there, I- can I come-“

 

Beg. 

 

“Please- please, please let me come-“

 

I told you. You’ve always been mine to control, my little tyrant, my slut. Ruin laughs, and sighs. Come, he commands.

 

His orgasm immediately breaks over him, and he cries out, his release splattering over his abdomen. He pants through the aftershocks, tremors wracking his body. When he looks up, the illusion has disappeared, but Ruin’s voice is still there. 

 

Mine.

 

Rashek can’t help but feel as though he’s lost some kind of battle.