Work Header

The Bride of Illythis

Chapter Text

The Sister approached the weeping acolyte, his hands were pressing the cloth hard between his legs as to not bleed out, but everyone around him knew that after losing this much, he wouldn't make it. If he didn't waste time trying to choke the Bride in retaliation instead of immediately stopping the bleeding then he'd probably still have a chance.

She placed a gentle hand on his knee, he couldn't stop trembling from the pain and shock. "You shouldn't have tried to kill our Bride, you know that, don't you?" The man didn't reply, still sobbing. "What a horrible thing you've been put through.... but I still need to ask: would you forgive him?"

Her words seemed to trigger a response on the man, and through shivers and labored breaths he shook his head. "…I can't Sister, I—!"

That was all she needed to know. Not a single second transpired before he was silenced forever, his neck snapped like a brittle branch by her own hands. It was the best thing she could do anyway. "May your soul find peace with Illythis."

Nobody around her said anything, the air was so tense. It wasn't like her to be so upset, but after what their Bride pulled, who wouldn't be?

Right now they were carefully administering him the necessary dose of their special brew via hose, make sure he wouldn't attempt to harm anyone else or himself. His limbs were tightly restrained, this time they wouldn't give him any leeway for movement, in accordance to Sister Myriam's instructions.

Nonetheless, she addressed her fellows, those who were still shaken by the recent series of events. "Everyone, listen to me: we have to proceed regardless of this setback… you understand why the crest of Blaiddyd is important for the Master, don't you? We already tried to bring the bearer of the crest of Flames to him because we chose to merely interpret our Master's needs instead of listening to his request. You've all witnessed the failure in such imprudence. He explicitly asks for the crest Blaiddyd, and that's what we're going to give him." Her eyes went back to watch over their helpless Bride, barely physically able to struggle in his new bondage, unable to even listen to them. "To ensure the happiness of the Master and the health of his successors, we have to make sure that Dimitri becomes a worthy Bride, do you understand?"

Her speech seemed to lift their spirits somewhat, for now she only needed them to keep their faith in their purpose. That was all. Her attention shifted back to the Bride, his head tilting like a disoriented animal, and he started a little when her hand patted his masked head.

"Now, shall we, Dimitri?"



Within a day of having been put in the darkness, the gag of cloth was replaced by some sort of muzzle with a thick hose attached from the inside-out, presumably to feed him without needing to partially remove the mask or device; it also made it impossible to bite his own tongue. What happened next was that he was strapped to some sort of table, having his limbs safely bound to the sides in such a way that he wouldn't be able to hurt himself.

The time he spent upon that table without the possibility to move, merely waiting for the time in which they'd give him that porridge-like food and water (which were, no doubt, filled with drugs), was a new kind of torture; his body burned up and prickled unbearably, and he could only feel his loins ache for hours without the possibility of relief. Most of the time his mind wasn't sound enough to count the hours or even the minutes, so it didn't take long before his perception of the time's passing was completely destroyed, losing himself in the relentless waves of unwanted arousal.

The rampant assault of the voices didn't help either, but eventually, just like last time, the lack of awareness of his own surroundings made them weaker. And when they hushed, Dimitri started to find the silence and darkness absolutely terrifying by tenfold. The intervals between meals started to feel longer and longer, each wait so excruciatingly quiet. The only occasions in which he was touched were when he soiled himself, but it was done so fast and mechanically that he couldn't even get any small comfort out of it. Days must've have gone on like this, maybe months, years…

The rot already sown inside him was expanding, crooking his resolve. There were days in which he welcomed the visions and the voices… if they came at all. One time he envisioned that he was naked in the cold woods outside of Fhirdiad, running mangled and bloodied back to his city… it was a short-lived dream, however, as the blinding darkness taking him back in a single devastating swoop. The voices rarely offered comfort, but when they did, he could feel the fabric of the mask get wet, bringing him the faint sense that he still had a physical body.

Fifteen days went by like this, but Dimitri didn't know that. The thought that his knights, his friends might still be looking for him didn't go through his head anymore. As far as he was concerned, they were already here with him, just more noise that would fill his headspace and then abandon him. His mind was left useless when they weren't there, it was only endless buzzing in the back of his head. He vaguely wondered if he was already dead or still alive, it didn't seem to be making any difference anymore.



When the mask taken off along the muzzle, it took him time to react or even notice, having grown so used to be submerged in nothingness, that fog it didn't immediately lift away from his mind. He groaned softly when a hand cupped his face, his eye could barely even blink open, could barely register the meaning of the shapes he was seeing or the words that were breaking through his world.

The Sister's voice was so sweet, easy to the ears and mind. "You poor thing, your hair is a filthy mess… and that beard too, we can't have that. I guess we should take care of it before you eat."

His joints were sore and weak, after being forced to remain static in one single place for too long it was no surprise. After his arms and legs were released, he was barely conscious enough to move them in any useful way. He didn't even know how to react when he was again moved by several hands, because he haven't felt the warmth or cold of skin against his own for what seemed like ages. With his mind still in disarray from the sudden exposure to stimuli, he couldn't decide if he liked it or not.

Dimitri was taken to the bathtub from the other time and passively sat there as the acolytes washed his entire body with warm water. He couldn't help but to almost fall asleep through it, just letting them to groom him, scrub the filth off him. Since he wasn't moving, they had no trouble using a folding razor to shave the messy beard off his face until his skin was pleasantly smooth.

He groaned in annoyance when they had to get him off the tub and dry him. Ultimately, he was put in a light robe of translucent fabric, too loose and light to cover anything, and he might've thought that it was strange to wear anything resembling clothes after so long, but his mind was still processing everything so slowly, it just felt like another dream that would soon vanish.

Time passed like one eternity until his mind was just clear enough to begin to understand what was happening around him, and even so, he was still too sluggish to put into words how to feel.

He was quietly pulled down to sit with a group of younger acolytes who brought into the room a little table and several plates with what smelled like freshly made food. The scent hit Dimitri hard enough to awaken him a little more. He would normally admit that he didn't expect to be presented such an impressive-looking banquet, but he could only show indifference to the fact.

And right next to him, Sister Myriam sat, watching him expectantly. "We're not sure what do you like, so I made them prepare some variety. I believe you will like this more than that porridge you're used to." Truth is that it really didn't matter since he lost his sense of taste years ago.

Thoughtlessly responding to the instinct of thirst, his hand went to pick up the silver goblet they put on the table, but his muscles had grown so weakthat the goblet slipped from his fingers midway across the table. Nobody commented, except that all moved around him quickly to clean up the table and move the food that was ruined; they filled up the goblet again and this time one of the acolytes helped Dimitri hold the recipient to take it to his lips. He drank too fast, half of the contents spilled down his chin, and before he realized, he was coughing violently from almost choking. The liquid felt strangely heavy in his stomach, he didn’t notice that it was wine. He was also helped to eat grilled meat from a skewer, they made sure that he wouldn't be holding the skewer at all. Other than that, they seemed smart enough to not present any silverware for him to use as potential weapons, even though it was clear that he wouldn't be able to effectively use any of them.

Within minutes Dimitri had enough to calm some his hunger, he might have recovered some of his energy, but it was still difficult for him to coordinate the movements of his limbs. It was frustrating to have to rely on the acolytes to do the most simple tasks, treating him like he was a weak old man.

Though he struggled to form clear thoughts, Dimitri started to understand his situation a little more, enough to feel anxious about how the acolytes were heartily feasting alongside him, exchanging conversation and laughing, as if they didn't care about everything they've done to him, as if he was already part of their little family. He couldn't help finding their behavior unsettling with every new thing he observed from them, it became harder to understand.

He turned his face back to Sister Myriam, she was gingerly nibbling a piece of chicken in her fingers, a sight that shocked him in a strange way. This could be the most human thing he's ever witnessed the Sister do. She noted his stare and smiled back at him. He could never make out what that smile really meant, and it terrified him.

"I know that look in your eyes. Those are the eyes of someone who knows pain, someone who carries a great burden all the time" she spoke, without warning her hand brushed the blonde locks of hair off his face, her gentle words were making his heart tremble with dread. "I know that feeling all too well. I've lost everything, I've been where you've been too. That despair, that guilt and self-loathing… it took its toll in your heart and you're in dire need of love. Anyone can see that." A wave of sadness and anxiety washed over him with her words. It was cruel to tug at his heart strings so seamlessly, when all his defenses were down. "But worry not, for the Master loves us all the same, He will eat out all of your sins, and by doing that He will cleanse you of your past and help you forget its troubles." Her thumb rubbed against his cheek, catching a tear rolling down. "Oh, He'll adore you, I just know it."

He breathed heavily, forcing his mouth to move, but words croaked weakly. "I... W-will I forget…? I don't want to…!" It hurt to use his voice again, but it was so low that it was barely noticeable. His body was already shivering, the heat inside of him suddenly spiking and making him feel sick.

"Hush... that's not important. I promise you won't even mind once you meet the Master, for He is kind and all-forgiving. Especially to you of all people; He already cherishes you." Dimitri didn't want to listen anymore, if he let her talk any longer, he was sure that he'd never escape this place.

His survival instinct slowly kicked in, and he attempted to make his whole body move. Clumsily, Dimitri's chest fell on the table, he ended up dragging his heavy legs across the mess of plates and food leftovers as he crawled with too much effort. But it was too hard, his limbs were as good as useless and he couldn't think properly beyond wanting to escape. He sobbed, frustrated at his own incompetence. Not one of the acolytes seemed to want to stop him, so trusting that he wouldn't go far. And they were right.

The Sister giggled. "Seems like our Bride drank a little too much." The rest of the acolytes laughed while Dimitri couldn't stop trembling with impotence. Lying in their table like this… he felt like part of the feast. They were going to eat him whole. ‘Please, stop fighting…

'No, you idiot, you need to run!' They all moved at once around him, carefully retrieving the mess of plates and cups to clear the table, and suddenly felt the Sister's arms around his head as the hands of other two held his knees apart, filling him with the well-known dread of what was coming. They opened the robes that he just dirtied, the cool air made his half-hard erection begin to throb. He gasped mortified upon feeling the tongue of one acolyte lick his shaft, effectively causing him to shiver with desire.

That's all it took for him to break down weeping, overwhelmed with emotions that he couldn't control and stranded in a situation he couldn't escape no matter how much he tried. It didn't help that he was already being prepped with lubed fingers prying him open.

Still, Sister Myriam was there, patting his head, kissing his temple as if he were her child. "There, there, you can cry all you need, we're here for you." Part of him felt extremely sick for finding some comfort in that.

Someone held his erection still for a moment, and he didn't understand why they stopped until the shock of a cold wet object begun to press against his slit, making him whine. He observed a woman acolyte with a tiny metal rod propped vertically against his cock's head, it was as thick as a quill and longer than his own dick. Seeing that he was tensing too much, the Sister held him tighter, kissing his face to calm him as he couldn't stop thinking of the feeling of that stick slipping inside his sensitive flesh.

"No… not there…" he whined, but his back merely arched, the slow slide of that object going inside him was wrecking his nerves.

"Shhh… just let it happen. You're loved here. We all love you. And He loves you above all else."

An object that size wasn't supposed to go in such a tiny space. It was touching nerves that weren’t supposed to be touched, smoothly dilating his urethra. The fact that it wasn't hurting as much as he thought it would just confused him more.

'What...?' No. 'It… feels good?' It felt like torture, being violated in such a way that he never knew possible, breaching his body for the sake of depraved pleasure, and Dimitri felt his will slowly unraveling under its weight.

And he couldn’t stop moaning hoarsely into the Sister’s neck as she cradled his head, the only space he could hide his face from embarrassment. 'Goddess, he likes it.'

Slow but quiet, the voices were returning as his shame grew in even strides with his hot arousal. 'Filthy boar.' He whined, feeling someone’s tongue licking his stomach up to his chest. The fingers in his ass just leisurely worked into him, not in any apparent rush. ‘How could you let this happen, Dimitri?

And it was going deeper still, filling his dick unnaturally, stretching that tiny hole until he thought he'd be slowly torn open. The little rod would be gently pulled nearly out just to be thrusted back in slow successions until he was squirming mercilessly. The acolytes continued holding his knees apart, but they didn’t even need to anymore. The fingers in his ass only circled lazily around his puckered hole, enough to tease him over the edge.

Dimitri didn’t realize how much he was drooling until the Sister’s fingers entered his mouth, unconsciously found himself licking and suckling them as they dared to go further, just enough to not make him gag. She was unafraid of having her fingers bitten again, and it wasn’t like he was about to try.

He closed his eye as the tremors of his climax brought a soft laughter from the Sister, but with the metallic rod, his semen couldn’t come out all at once, each time they pulled it back just some drops trickled out easing the heavenly friction. It felt good. It felt so good, and he was sickened with how his body reacted.

Dimitri’s tension lessened, but that rod was still inside him, it still roused spasms out of him, and he could sense gravity pulling its metallic weight further down; he could only rest his sweaty head against the Sister as she kept kissing his tears away.

“See? You’re doing so well already, and we’ve only just begun…” she whispered to his ear, removing her slickened fingers from his mouth.

"… M-more?" he mumbled confused, realizing that their motions have stopped.

He noticed a couple of acolytes brought something new to present him, upon first sight it looked like some sort of root vegetable, until he realized its bumpy texture made it look more like a headless caterpillar, it was clear that it had been hacked off from one end. When he got a closer look, he was shocked to realize it was moving.

That thing was alive.

"W-what is…?"

Sister Myriam hummed. "A present from the Master. He cut off one of his own limbs, just for you. For you to feel Him." Through his hazy mind, Dimitri felt his heart race at the slow realization. His limb? Then… who, what in the world was that…? "Didn't I tell you? He truly does loves you" she said as she kissed his temple again.

When the acolytes grabbed the severed end and positioned the opposite end close to his inner thigh, it dawned on him what they intended to do. Dimitri’s mind raced, the weird limb was much longer than anything they’ve already put inside him, and the way it thrashed just reminded him of the tail of some sort of creature; and of all things that concerned him, he wondered if such a thing would be able to fit inside him.

He considered to resist, but he faintly realized that he couldn’t bring himself to do it. With the Sister gently cooing at him, he was reminded of the price of fighting back.

This is wrong.’ They spread his legs wider still, removing the fingers from his asshole and opened up as far as they could as they placed the smooth pointy end against his throbbing rim, Dimitri shuddered at the strange slickness of its skin, it was like a cold piece of barbed flesh trying to wriggle itself into his hole. Dimitri heaved, unable to look away as the alien appendage seemed to slowly worm itself into him on its own volition, and it felt so unlike anything he’s experienced until now.

I can’t keep looking...!’ Yet, why did it feel so good? ‘Stop! Why can’t you stop acting like a disgusting whore?!

Dimitri cried out, feeling it stretch him, thrashing almost violently as it went further inside, one of the acolytes had to hold its opposite end to stop the tentacle from creeping fully inside. He could feel it touch and twist his insides with such wild abandon, rubbing him raw and squirm against that sensitive spot within until he could feel closer to his peak again.

They allowed it to go in as deep as possible, its movements became less random, slowly becoming more precise, as if it quickly learned where to press and where to rub to make Dimitri writhe with pleasure. And with the rod still inserted in his cock, he was feeling overwhelmed with feverish bliss.

Unexpectedly, other of the acolytes touched the metallic stick again, this time thrusting it deeper inside again and again. He gasped softly, feeling his thoughts slip as the little voices quieted down, only being able to think about how both ends of him were so utterly filled. "Ahh… I'm…I can't, I, I'm…!"

And with Sister Myriam holding him so tenderly, as if everything was alright with the world, Dimitri couldn’t help but to want to believe in that. They could just fuck into any hole in his body and he’d still moan like an animal, all human dignity rendered meaningless.

He cried out as he felt the end of the metallic rod touch a bundle of nerves deep within him, at the same time when the alien appendage hit his sensitive spot, it made Dimitri’s mind go blank. He involuntarily bucked his hips up, his body tensed and shuddered, feeling like he was overflowing with fire.

The climax lasted long, so painfully long, as if his tortured nerves refused let go of him. He screamed and trembled until the appendage inside him was slowly pulled out of his ass as he could feel it trying to crawl back inside, its little barbs brushing his oversensitive flesh so much so that he was brought close again to another small orgasm.

Dimitri felt like it’d just tear him apart with pleasure if they let it stay any longer, and right now he wasn’t sure if that’d be such a bad thing...

After they managed to remove that tentacle, he could feel his hole twitching angrily at the absence, he whined pathetically for being suddenly so devastatingly hollow. His stuffed dick was still pulsing in both pain and pleasure, so when they finally pull out the rod, his extended orgasm came to an end, spilling his seed all over his stomach.

The room was filled with the sounds of his own breathless whimpers for a while. If people were moving or talking around him, he didn’t even notice them, so lost in the turmoil of sensations that just assaulted his entire being.

The Sister’s hand brushed the humid hair off his face, and his only tear-stained eye was still unfocused, staring at nothing.

“Did you feel it, Dimitri? Did you feel His love?” he couldn’t respond, his head was still spinning. The Sister’s arm was drenched in his sweat and tears, but she didn’t seem to mind. She just seemed happy. “There’s yet so much more he has to offer… oh, I can see it already. You’ll be so beautiful together…”

He couldn’t imagine it, not when his mind was helplessly drifting away. At least now the voices kept quiet.