So, I was supposed to be working on a bunch of other stuff, but I finished FE3H and couldn't stop thinking about how much I wanted to write Dimitri getting fucked Bad.
I was also in a extreme Halloween mood while writing this, so it sorta transformed into a psychological horror (sorta). and before I knew it, it was a multichapter thing. And since I'm going multichapter, I'll be tagging its contents at the start of every chapter, so you guys can skip it if there's a kink that doesn't stir your loins. Sounds good? Then we're good to go.
There will be several canon characters mentioned at various points in the story, but none will have a significant role until much later. Also, I may be hinting at some ships, but I won't tag unless I need to, because ships aren't going to be impactful in this fic, like at all.
Warning: This chapter has nothing very sexually explicit happening yet, but it does contain Non-Con Groping, Clothes Ripping, Forced Drugging and Bondage.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
At last, the meeting was over, and for once King Dimitri welcomes the respite, for as much as his body begs for rest, his conscience often forced him to work harder than what he should. After nearly finishing to work through the betterment of Fodlán's relations with Almyra along with its current regent, he could say that he was satisfied… for now. This was one of the few times in which he could say that he earned some sleep, which spared him of having to banter with Gustav about what constituted a healthy sleeping cycle.
This had been a peaceful year, as far as he was concerned, and most people seemed to agree that it was a fruit of his efforts.
The most eventful thing that happened since the start of the year was the thwarted attempt to kidnap Byleth, his dear former professor and current leader of the Church of Seiros, which was seemingly a stunt from a small obscure cult. The culprits were swiftly brought to justice, but their motives were never found out. Months have passed since then and these type of cultists were never heard of again; Dimitri stopped inquiring about it since then. His professor was, after all, the most capable leader he's ever known and knew how to take care of themselves. Since that issue was dealt with, he was able to focus on other matters and rest easy.
"It's rare to see you take a sensible time to go to sleep. Please make it more of a habit."
Dedue, his right hand and closest friend had just turned up from finishing his own diplomatic mission at Duscur, followed Dimitri across the halls leading into his quarters, sun setting below the castle's windows and bathing its walls with warmth for the last time in the day. Dedue was smiling softly through his hardened features, and when Dedue smiled, Dimitri felt at ease.
"I can sleep more soundly after knowing I did more than my best. To my people I owe them as much" he said, feeling his chest big with pride.
"Still, you need to mind your own health more often. Nobody wants to see you overwork yourself to an early grave, Dimitri."
"Perhaps. But I don't plan on dying soon, not when there's still so much left to be done" he replied, trying to not dwell in the implication that more than one was talking about such grim prospects. Dedue eyed him with mild apprehension, causing Dimitri to shrug his wide shoulders. "I'll try to not worry you."
"That's what I'm afraid of. Be the King your people need, but also… don't forget to be kind to yourself. Don't wait for me or anyone to feel worried."
His words were sweet and true, but even now, it was a struggle to take them to heart. Before becoming a King, Dimitri sullied his hands with so much unnecessary blood, and even now the voices of the dead would haunt him, not as frequently as before, but they still did. Perhaps they'd never truly leave, but he needed keep on moving in spite of the bad days, because now he knew that he had brighter days every so often.
Tonight, as he headed alone to his chambers, he bore in mind Dedue's words.
The realization of how tired he was didn't hit him until he shed his eyepatch and formal dress and unceremoniously tucked himself in his bedsheets, not even bothering to turn out his chamber's lamp. His bed smelled so nice, herbs he couldn't really name, probably they used a different soap to wash the sheets, so he inhaled deeply before letting the dreams take him away. It was a quiet and perfect night and, for once, he truly wanted nothing more than to sleep.
Little did Dimitri knew that the eyes peering from within the darkness of his closet have waited oh so patiently for him to fall asleep. Little did he knew that they've been inside his castle for months, keeping track of guard's shifts, memorizing every hall, every door and window, that they'd douse his sheets with a potent but harmless sleeping drug to keep him unconscious for as long as they needed.
Dimitri didn't know any of that, for he'd be in deep sleep for at least a whole day.
There was a heavy buzzing around his head before he started to regain consciousness, the first thing that he noticed was that he wasn't in his bedroom, his body still dressed in light clothes lying on top of big cushions too soft for his liking placed on the floor. Second, the place was much darker, just barely illuminated by torches, the air was sickly sweet like drenched in wine. Third, he wasn't alone.
His only eyelid flickered as he began to focus on the face of a woman, a gentle smile and dressed in a flowing white dress with green and gold embroidery with spiraled patterns he couldn't recognize. Dimitri could say that she looked like a pleasant person if it wasn't that his senses were screaming at him about immediate danger, realizing that his arms were tied behind him and… he was surrounded by people dressed in a similar fashion. All of them were looking at him.
"Are you awake now? … Good." The woman's voice was eager but soft, her face was so close to him just made Dimitri want to look away in embarrassment. She reminded him a lot of Lady Rhea, but that gentleness felt more like a flat act rather than something genuine. "Hello, so nice to finally meet you. We were hoping to properly introduce ourselves before we could begin."
He was used to the stares, being a leader that his people looked up to, but there was something so deeply unsettling about the tangible adoration in their silent eyes.
With every ounce in his body, he wanted to get up and walk away, but even now he couldn't muster the strength to force himself to do any of that. He couldn't even wring the power of his Crest to get that boost of strength to break the bondage, both his legs and arms were useless. No doubt that he was heavily drugged before he came to his senses.
The woman seemed to notice the distress in his face, but she only smiled with a knowing look. "Your body is still asleep and you won't be able to move much for now. Don't worry, it's a normal thing to feel confused but I'll be happy to fill you in while you're still adjusting. I am Sister Myriam, and I am the leader of our humble church, the Church of Illythis." Dimitri squinted, feeling as if he's heard that name before. "And through the revelation of our Master, you were chosen, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, bearer of the Crest of Blaiddyd, as the Master's new Bride for his next coming to our world."
"W-what are you talking about…?" Dimitri managed to blurt out. He couldn't make sense of those words, her preaching coming off with demented glee.
"Oh, I understand, it must be difficult to process such grand news and in such short notice, but worry not! As the Master's acolytes, it's our task to properly groom and prepare you for when the time comes to consummate your holy union. Any problems that the Bride might face, it's our job to solve them all."
"This has to be some mistake, I'm… did you just call me 'bride'?" That jump in logic was enough of a kick to make his body flinch. His legs were not restrained, so he bent his knee and attempted to balance his weight in order to get up, his legs were as shaky as a newborn fawn. "Release me now, or you'll force me to harm you…" he muttered, finding his voice struggling to sound menacing in any way.
Who was this 'Master' anyway? Perhaps their founder? Some sort of megalomaniacal noble playing to be a god? Whoever it may be, they must be incredibly bold and stupid to kidnap him. Dimitri knew better than to underestimate an enemy he didn't know yet, but he wasn't willing to sit and wait to be rescued by his knights, specially not when this cultist woman alluded to such preposterous plans. He was a King, not a bride.
Even though he stood inches taller than the woman, she didn't seem fazed in any way. In fact, everyone around him was visibly tense except her. She looked pleased.
"Oh dear, the Blaiddyd Crest is really that strong. No wonder why the Master has his eyes on you." she laughed, joining her hands together.
Though Dimitri wanted to push past her and get away, she managed to stop him on his tracks by simply putting her hands on his chest. Was she actually stronger than him or did the drugs make him this weak? He really couldn't tell.
And the way she was touching his chest, the way she cupped his pectorals through his shirt made him immediately uncomfortable and only prompted him to step back and force himself to walk past her as forcefully as possible without regards to the crowd around him. He clearly underestimated his own situation.
Dimitri was circled by the rest of the crowd and he couldn't find an opening to walk past. His panic grew, the lingering presence of his ghosts were urging him to run away, but he could barely walk straight. Dozens of hands held him, and gently pushed him back to the cushions; he grunted and tried to fight them off, but having his arms bound behind him made that practically impossible. He could hear the people, most of them women of all ages, laugh softly at him as he continued to struggle to stand up again.
"It won't do to have you exert yourself unnecessarily. Please lay down and let it us do the rest."
Dimitri was pressed against the cushions and he gnarled angrily, feeling the weight of the crowd trying to keep him still, and he knew they could feel his erratic heartbeat like that of a defenseless prey. He closed his only eye in distress; he hated the feeling of hopelessness slowly taking over, and the fear of the worst-case scenario coming to life… And then he heard something rip.
Upon looking down, he watched how one of the women used a sharp dagger to cut the fabric of his pants' waistband down to where his legs met.
He gasped and his body jumped, causing the dagger's tip to puncture his thigh. The suddenness of his movement surprised the women, but didn't make them let go of him, in fact, they only held him tighter still. Dimitri was breathing heavily, shaking his head as if hoping it'd somehow do anything to stop them. The growing panic greatly outweighed the sensation of pain on his bleeding wound.
"Stop that, you. We're not interested in hurting you, but if you must keep on being stubborn then you'll force us to use more drastic methods", Sister Myriam said, her body leaning down until she was at eye-level with him; her eyes were wide and disturbingly big, as if they wanted to devour him whole. "You're cherished here, Dimitri, the Master cherishes you and we want to treat you right, but you have to do your part too."
"I'll never comply! You and your twisted games have gone too far…!" he hissed.
Dimitri's body started again, but more hands and more people joined to hold him down, taking the dagger to carefully hack the rest of his clothes to strips easy to remove. A violent blush took over his face when his genitals were displayed, feeling all their eyes on him at once. They cut up his shirt next, Dimitri was helpless as their hands touched all over his body and numerous battle scars, the awareness of his own nakedness made his little hairs stand on end as they all drank the view of him. He didn't remember the last time he felt this humiliated.
He attempted again to struggle, but one of the acolytes brought a new rope and they promptly tied his ankles together, clearly knew that they shouldn't have let him wake up with his legs unrestrained. A new weight of despair was taking over him.
Sister Myriam pulled a handkerchief from her dress and pressed it firmly against the wound on his nude thigh to clean up the blood; her hand was so tantalizingly close to his privates that he felt his body shiver in dread.
Eventually she did grope his crotch, and Dimitri nearly jumped if it wasn't for the hands holding him back. The Sister was feeling and tugging at his balls and penis with asexual detachment, as if merely evaluating his body. Nevertheless, it felt so wrong and he couldn't stop heaving.
"Stop, STOP! Don't touch me! Don't touch me anywhere!" his usually rough voice cracked, her fingers now touching beneath his testicles, pressing there experimentally.
She completely ignored his pleas, simply touching wherever she was wanted, probing and groping his privates, his stomach, his chest, not really in a manner that communicated sexual desire. Dimitri couldn't decide if it was more humiliating to have it this way or how he expected... He couldn't even tell if the acolytes were snickering at him or if it was the voices.
"You have a strong form, which is good. That means that we don't have to make much changes… Let's see, your face looks so pretty too…"
Her hand reached out to his face, so his first immediate instinct was to open his mouth and bite down her fingers in defiance. If he had his real strength back, he could've cleanly bitten those fingers off, but in spite of tasting her blood in his teeth, she only seemed mildly upset by this, barely reacting to the attack. The stare she gave back at Dimitri after retreating her hand gave him chills.
"Oh dear, you really leave us no choice then." Sister Myriam tilted her head towards the acolytes in the back of the room as a silent order. Soon one of the men delivered to her what appeared to be some sort of bag, a woman behind her was holding what seemed to be a small copper kettle. In that moment he knew that biting her was a mistake.
"Within time we'll make you understand how blessed you are and you'll be thankful for this chance given to you only, but until then… I ask you to please be patient."
His heart started beating frantically when they held his head still as she put the bag over his head, a tighter fit than it initially appeared. They only rolled down the cloth over his eyes, making his anxiety go through the roof. Next thing he knew was that they forced a thick ball of his own clothes' rags in his mouth, effectively gagging him. Dimitri was breathing hard through his nose, muffling his anguished protests. He hated the dark, hated being restrained and hated being helpless.
"We're going to block all your orifices except for your nose so nothing shall disturb you while you meditate. But before we do, we prepared a little something to help you get there."
Following that, his head was forced to lay sideways and suddenly felt a small hard object inserted into his ear and he gasped through the gag when warm liquid began to pour right into his ear canal, probably the reason why they brought that kettle. With his remaining might Dimitri tried to shake it off, the feeling of that strange liquid overflowing his ear and clogging his eardrums was extremely unpleasant, seeping into his skin too deep, fearing that it'd make him lose his hearing too. They kept Dimitri still until he started to feel it getting further inside him, before he knew it all his body was shivering as if he were cold, but instead he was burning up.
He didn't realize that the acolytes stopped holding him down until he felt a gentle hand tap on his head. He didn't know what they just gave to him, but its effects were almost immediate and it scared him to not know what it actually did. The more he thought about it, the worse his head was pounding and the louder the voices were.
"You will feel tingly for a few hours, but I believe that you'll grow used to it. You might even like it. Now then…" He could feel her words crawling into his head. "… Please behave."
With that, Dimitri felt the earplugs coming inside his ears as the rest of the cloth mask was pulled down, the whole world closing down on him.
He yelled through the gag, but found himself unable to hear nothing more than the echoes in his head and how the liquid was trickling deeper into his brain. He thrashed weakly, but all the hands disappeared, and it was just him and the nothingness. He suddenly couldn't even strain against the bondage, the last words that Sister Myriam said to him still painfully engraved in his mind.
So he behaved.
Next chapter is gonna get more fucked, that's a warning.
Warning: Torture through Sensory Deprivation, Victim Blaming, Humiliation, Drugging, Rape, Strap-ons, Extreme Hallucinations, Disturbing Imagery (with some gore)... overall, Peak Mental Health Badness.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
It was quiet. He didn't know for how long it was quiet like this, and he didn't like it… until he did. The voices have quieted down too after a few hours, and he felt like the world around him and his body ceased to be. The lack of outer stimuli and having no liberty to move his limbs distressed him for a while, but he still remembered that he needed to behave. He couldn't remember why, but he needed to behave, whatever that meant.
He was moved to a different spot after losing consciousness once, but after that, Dimitri wasn't moved or touched unless they needed to clean him up after getting soiled, or to move the gag to the side to give him water through a hose, but no solid food as far as he could tell. The thought of fighting crossed his mind, but his body was abnormally relaxed despite being fully aware of his own captivity. He presumed that they also slipped drugs to the water or food to keep him meek.
But once he was fed, he'd be delivered back to the absolute void. No light, no sound, no goddess, only his drifting consciousness and the waning visions. Yes, even those begun to fade into this nothingness, which was a strangely welcome turn of events.
But even that momentary peace begun to shatter under the darkness' weight. He started to grow restless, missing the sound of the children's laughter, the soft graze of a breeze, the colors of the dawn, anything! Even during his worst days, when he spent too much time lost in his own mind, it was never like this!
The restraint of his limbs felt so much tighter, he couldn't even tell if they were in the same place as before, as if they weren't there at all. The vertigo of that panic made him scream through the gag for many hours, maybe even days, until his throat hurt.
But he couldn't even hear his own screaming.
He exhausted himself thoroughly after screaming his soul out, uselessly. His body was useless and his mind was becoming useless too, so all he had left to do was to behave. That's all he knew, because that was what gave him peace, that horrible, lonely peace that was slowly rotting him from the inside.
When the mask finally came off and the shock of cold air hit his face and the warmth of the light caressed his only eye, five days had passed, but Dimitri's mind felt so much more than that.
It suddenly overwhelmed him to be released from that dark prison. Not only the mask, but also the restraints were gone. He could move if he wanted to, but he just laid there motionless, slowly drinking in the tender light of the lamps in the black room. His disoriented gaze found the familiar shapes of the white-dressed acolytes around him and then that of a wide-eyed woman kneeling right next to him. She was smiling at him.
"How are you feeling today? Must've been difficult to wait, but maybe now you'll be more agreeable." Her hand reached out to his face and cupped his cheek. The tenderness of this gesture activated a weird urge in him to lean his head against that hand, realizing how miserably touch-starved he's become. Sister Myriam hummed delighted, brushing the stray sweaty blond strands of hair from his forehead. "Will you keep on behaving, Dimitri?"
He wanted so bad to retort, to push her away and run for his life, but instead he groaned and clumsily moved his hand to cling to her dress's skirt. "…Pl-please…" he muttered, his voice was hoarse and weak from all the screaming from the past days. He'd surely die if he let them put the mask back on him again.
And apparently this demonstration of despair was enough to make the Sister happy. "That's very good, you're beginning to understand how this works."
He was comforted by her for a while, she had his head rest on her lap while he attempted to gather his own words, attempted to know what to curse her, what to even do, but his body was lifeless like a ragdoll, so all he could do was to allow her to pet his head.
While he was in repose, he felt again the small tip of the kettle's spout upon his ear, and he started slightly as the warm liquid began to pour into his ear. He was breathing hard, but he didn't have the energy to resist. He recalled the sensation before being put in the mask, so he acted reasonably upset, his hands even tried to stop it, but his movements had become too clumsy, only managing to touch the air. Before he knew it, his body was shivering as he felt that sickening warmth leaking over his skin; his only solace was the Sister's lap.
Dimitri felt heavy and disoriented, when he was gently told to 'get up', he found it easy to want to try, but his muscles weren't cooperating. He was then aided by other acolytes to move, his legs were pathetically weak after not using them for days and they would not be able to hold him up. Having so many hands touch him at once after being deprived of contact for so long startled him, staggering his still-hazy mind.
Dimitri was just vaguely aware of the structure of whatever this place was, so it surprised him when he was taken to a new room, slightly smaller but with a more distinct scent of soap permeating the air, a bathtub ready with lukewarm water for him. He almost felt relieved, until he realized that they were going to scrub him instead of letting Dimitri do it himself…
Of course, it's not like he had recovered enough physical strength to do anything of this by himself, besides the acolytes had already washed him while he was in isolation, and using the bathtub was far less degrading, but they were all still touching him everywhere, even more intimately than before. His breath hitched every time someone touched him anywhere below his navel, and even then… he couldn't really bring himself to do anything against them. Even the most perverse squeeze at his cock or the occasional pinch at his hard nipples, he couldn't deny them no matter how much it churned his stomach. He didn't want to give them a reason to put him back in bondage.
His heart jumped when he started to feel fingers brush between his ass, and before he could even protest one had already slipped into him. Hands held his face close against one acolyte's chest, as if trying to reassure him while his body was falling apart with tremors, not knowing what to do with the finger violating him. Then there were two fingers, slippery thanks to the soap and his weakened state, they went knuckle-deep, as if searching for something inside.
Sister Myriam was supervising the bath of course, and his eye often drifted back to her. And then, he gasped, feeling those fingers curl against a part of him that caused his hips to buck, the Sister's smile widening. He didn't understand why they were doing this, his mind was too scattered to comprehend, only that his body was shivering non-stop when he met the first sparks of pleasure making his blood pump, grating against the utter terror and confusion blossoming anew. Dimitri stared back at the Sister, silently pleading. She nodded, offering a patient smile.
"Our job is to make sure your body is ready to receive the Master's gifts and to satisfy his many needs as his future Bride. In truth, it's not something anyone can undertake without a thorough preparation, and to his instructions we're going to help you get an idea of what to expect from him. Does that sate your curiosity?"
He had no opportunity to answer, feeling a spasm run through his lower back, he closed his mouth to contain his moan as the fingers pressed harder against that spot inside his ass, six hands held him to prevent his body from slipping on the bathtub. He let out a shuddering breath, feeling his cock harden against his will.
They kept fingering him at a leisure pace, and soon started to pump his cock at the same rhythm, the soap stung on his oversensitive skin and he could do nothing but to muffle his moans against the chest of the acolyte holding his head.
"Yes… that feels good, doesn't it? It's all better when you just let go." the Sister said, just close enough to observe his reactions. She spoke in such a sweet, almost condescending voice, making him feel even more helpless.
He came shuddering, the sensation of release a turned too strong than it should have. His whole frame was still shivering as he continued to spill himself in the soapy water, fingers still lazily pressing into that one spot until they were satisfied. It took a while before his heartbeat returned to normal.
It turned out to be more exhausting than he imagined, the acolytes had to carry his boneless body out of the tub to dry him and move him elsewhere.
Dimitri closed his eye only once, but next time he opened it, he was lying on a floor mat, identifying the same cushions when he first woke in this place. The air felt different, warmer even. He noted that many people around him didn't have their white clothes anymore. In fact, it seemed that Sister Myriam was the only one still wearing clothes in this room.
One acolyte, a male much older than him, was kneeling in front of Dimitri, keeping direct eye contact with him while it was clear that his dick was hard. It didn't take Dimitri a lot of reasoning to understand where this was going.
For one last time Dimitri tried to move his limbs, but upon barely bending his knee, two acolytes quickly grabbed his thighs and pulled his legs up until his knees were nearly touching his chest, leaving him wide open. He started to breath heavily, watching how that man's hand poured oil in his hands and then between Dimitri's cheeks, smoothing it over his puckered hole, occasionally sinking his finger inside, getting him properly lubed.
Growing distressed, Dimitri whined as the teasing carried on, his own dick twitching back to life and he slowly realized that he couldn't see the faces of the people who were touching him. Not that they were covering themselves, but in his stress he was unable to make out their facial features. Even the man who was rubbing the head of his oiled cock against his entrance, Dimitri couldn't tell how he looked like.
The initial push was agonizingly slow, two more acolytes joined to hold his head and his shoulders to make sure he didn't resist. The dick itself wasn't big, so the burn of the stretch wasn’t unbearably painful, but the thought that some faceless man was raping him was making Dimitri's stomach turn.
'So this is what it's come to, son?'
His eye widened and his breath hitched before his rapist's cock was fully inside, as his mind registered the voice that had been haunting him for the longest. The crystal clear regal voice, filled with sorrow and impotence was none other than his father, King Lambert. By the time that Dimitri registered it, the faceless man thrusted firmly into him, finally making the young king to cry out.
'It shames me to see you disgraced like this, Dimitri. How will you be able to maintain our family's honor after this?'
It distressed him to hear his father's voice again. He haven't heard or seen him ever since he took Edelgard’s life, thinking that his spirit finally found peace. To have him back at his darkest hour was more than what he could bear.
"No… what are you doing here? W-why are you here? I did what you asked of me, please…!" he whined with a voice so thin it didn't seem like his own. For every thrust, Dimitri could see King Lambert's face more and more clearly, coming closer. "Don't look, please don't look! Father, please don't…!"
Of course his pleas were ignored. As always. Only this time he wasn't demanding his son the head of Edelgard; this time the blue gaze scorned at him with a new kind of disgust. "Don't look, don't look don't look don't look don't look don't look…" He closed his eye, desperately hoping that he'd go away, desperately wanting that man to be done with this degrading experience already.
"What should we do? He's talking to himself, Sister…" murmured one of the acolytes, understandably perturbed.
"... Let's not get distracted, so long as we make sure he doesn't hurt anyone or himself… and don't spill inside of him: that's Master's right" she said. But Dimitri didn't even pay them attention anymore, his body was tensing around that cock out of sheer anguish. Not to mention that his head started to burn up really bad.
And then the faceless man pulled out, shooting his seed all over Dimitri's thighs, and he felt that sticky warmth trickling down his skin. He knew he must look repugnant like this, and worst of all, his hole was still twitching at the abandonment, his senses had already been stimulated to the point of having a full-on erection.
A new faceless person appeared and started to insert his fingers inside of Dimitri again, his ministrations far more precise and effective, making him choke a whine as that spot inside of him was touched again, more insistently. His cock was throbbing and yet left untouched.
'Your Highness, is this how you repay my faith in you?' Dimitri only gritted his teeth, clenching his only eye shut as he recognized the noble voice of that other man, someone very dear whom he used to respect. A new bigger cock entered him. 'Why? Why couldn't you be a better man than this? My son didn’t die believing in this.'
"I'm sorry Rodrigue, I'm sorry Glenn… nnh…! Please, don't look…!" he rasped, feeling the more forceful rhythm of the new wave of thrusts, going deep and hard enough to make his erection bob with each impact. He hated to think of it, hated to think about how he must look and how his friends were witnessing his ravishment as he laid helpless. And in spite of that, he was still erect.
This one finished sooner though, causing Dimitri to reel at the suddenness of that cock pulling out, and to his own shame, his hips had pushed back on their own in want. Glenn's voice made a sickened snarl. 'Really, Dimitri? Just when I thought that you couldn't get more repulsive…'
And for a few seconds, when he thought that another would come to take their place, he felt nothing. Was it finally over? It couldn't be.
The hands that held him relaxed their grip slightly, just to change his lying position by placing his lower back on top of a cushion. Dimitri made the mistake of opening his eye to understand what was happening, a new person was kneeling between his legs, and he felt his stomach shrink at the sight.
Her shape was dressed in crimson blood, crowned with horns of gold and snow-like hair locks fell on her chest, a long gaping wound between her breasts leaked like dark red dew.
Dimitri could try to close his eye to shield his remaining sanity, but it was too late, for her own pale lavender eyes already caught him. The quiet ire and pain in her eyes still haunted him, still struck fear upon him, even years after she was killed by his own hand. Even in death, he couldn't be free of her.
He trembled violently, seeing her coming closer, couldn’t try to even shut his eye. The acolytes must've taken his reaction as resistance, so they pulled his arms above his head. "You're not here. You're not real. You're not—!"
'You don't get to decide who is real in here.' Her voice like death itself, the echo of someone who once knew love but threw it all away, someone who pitied and loathed him at the same time. 'You forfeited that right when you started to drag the dead everywhere with you. Including me.'
Her crimson gloved hands touched his knees and they felt warm and wet, he yelped in shock.
No, the dead could do many things but never touch him, even at their worst… but right now she was actually touching him! How was she doing that? It didn’t make any sense!
'And it's my still-fresh blood in your hands what chains me to you…' Her hands were leaving wet red imprints wherever they touched, Dimitri was hyperventilating, the contrast between her gentle touches and her harsh words was driving him mad. 'Why can't you just let me go?'
That’s when he noted that she wore some sort of contraption around her waist, a metallic phallus strapped to leather belts to simulate a penis of her own. It had a strange texture crafted to it, ridges and barbs made it resemble an insect of some sort. It looked too big, too painful and too cold. She'd tear him in two if he let her…
"El..." he whined low, his mouth shivering so bad he thought he might snap his jaw. He could still sense his father's burning glare behind her. "El, don't..." It was too much for him, yet his body couldn't stop aching, practically begging to be split open by her.
When she slicked the thing with her hands and started to push its head inside him, Dimitri tried to not cry out, it was taking all of his remaining strength to not break into a sobbing mess, even though his head had been pounding this whole time. The slow pass of those hard bumps through his abused hole, stretching and reshaping his insides into something he couldn’t call his own.
He choked a sob, feeling the metal piece lodging easily into him, the coolness making his heated gut flinch at the invasion; all he could do was convulse around it and under her weight. Her peerless gaze was so vivid and close, Dimitri could’ve questioned if she was truly dead if not for the impossible wound in her chest, bleeding onto him. He could clearly see her blood still spilling over his thighs, his crotch, his stomach… even if she was dead, in this moment she was very much real.
Edelgard fucked into him slow and methodically, grabbing his hips firmly until she could hit him in the right angle. He could not fight, his arms still tightly held above his head and legs held wide open; his words melted into distraught moaning, every instance in which that metal cock touched that spot inside him, he could feel himself on the verge of letting go… If only she could go faster, or at least touch his erection.
Oh… Glenn was right, he was repulsive.
Fingers of faceless strangers found their way into his mouth, lips slick and loose couldn’t contain his moans nor could keep the fingers from invading. Dimitri was so lost in Edelgard’s thrusts that he could not think about what to do with the fingers in his mouth, so he only whined around them as the drool started to pool down his chin.
His grunts became more desperate as her speed increased, that artificial girth desecrated him deeper and Dimitri could feel himself approaching to his orgasm amidst this anguish. Finally, her hand took his hard member and gently stroked his wet erection, the sleek sounds of his foreskin being pulled back and forth brought him a sickening primal pleasure as his hips thrusted upwards into her hand.
'Don't forget, Dimitri: you deserve this.' she whispered.
He came almost immediately after, crying into the fingers in his mouth, each painful pulsation releasing more and more of his load, easing the friction of Edelgard’s hand as she squeezed him until he was sure he had nothing left.
His sight went hazy for a moment, eyelid fluttering as the shame soaked him entirely. Dimitri’s body went stiff and then slack, feeling as the metallic cock was carefully pulled out of his asshole, meeting little resistance for a few moments. The fingers in his mouth also left, leaving him a drooling mess.
The sweaty hands stopped holding his limbs, trusting that he had no energy left to do anything imprudent. Instead, they began to caress him gently, as to comfort him after such a stressful ordeal, and he could do nothing but to lazily lean into them, allowing them to pet his spasms down all over his drenched body.
For the brief moment his vision went clear, he noted that there were no traces left of Edelgard. The deep red that had completely painted his view was gone. And so was his Father and Rodrigue and Glenn. There was just in a strange room filled with strange naked people he didn’t recognize.
… And he could see Sister Myriam, still in her pristine white dress, watchful.
He found himself unable to think about it anymore, so suddenly exhausted and sore that it was impossible to keep his consciousness any longer. He feared for what would come after falling asleep, but fear wasn’t enough to keep him awake.
“Sister, is it wise that we keep using that potion on him?” asked the youngest girl, one of the acolytes given the honor of preparing the Bride with their special toy, the one she still had strapped around her hips.
Sister Myriam was still silently evaluating what just passed through. Even she seemed a little disturbed by their new Bride’s erratic ramblings.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting him to have such intense reactions to it… but perhaps those visions of his might have some use” she said, observing the flushed and wet face of their unconscious Bride. It really was a pretty face, even with his brows creased in despair.
“I don’t mean to defy your judgement, but what if it turns him into a danger? I’ve heard some troubling rumors of his days as a vagrant prince…”
The Sister hummed, smiling kindly to her young kindred. “I feel your concerns. However, it’s probably a good thing that he’s such a troubled soul. Easy to break and even easier to mold. The Master does love the broken and lost after all…”
And next chapter will probably get a little worse. Might take 1-2 weeks to update, dunno. depends if school isn't eating me alive.
WARNINGS: Psychological Torture, Overstimulation, Crying, Drugged Sex, Gang Rape, Eye Licking, Hallucinations, Dirty Talk (but not really), Suicidal Thoughts, and HUGE WARNING on non-graphic genital mutilation (not on Dimitri tho).
Basically, Dimitri makes a huge mistake.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Dimitri woke up gasping as he felt many hands stroking his naked body, dozens of fingers pressing all over his oiled skin, massaging hard muscles and points of tension. The sensation would be arousing, but his mind started to quickly put the pieces back together, remembering what transpired when he was last conscious.
The first thing he could recall was… Edelgard. The punch of having to remember the bleeding crimson taking over his senses was enough to make him shudder.
A tinge of pure frustration and dread riveted his mind, making his current treatment add insult to the injury.
Despite feeling this way, he still didn’t have the strength to fight back. He distantly realized that he hasn’t eaten or drunk anything since he was pulled out of isolation. On top of that, it was hard to think when he was being constantly fondled by several strangers lying beside him, and he couldn’t help but to let out a shameful whine when some of those hands gently squeezed his pectoral muscles or his thighs, where his flesh was plentiful and soft. He didn’t know what sort of ointment they were spreading over his body, but it made him feel prickly under his skin, and he couldn’t decide if it was good or not. Even the warm smell was making him dizzy already.
Again, he could immediately recognize the white dress of Sister Myriam, and as such, Dimitri was reminded of how much power she had over this situation. She could comfortably sit right next to him, completely uncaring of his fear, his hatred, his arousal.
“Morning, Dimitri. Did you sleep well?”
Ah, so it was morning then? He had no way to tell, the complex didn’t have windows and there were no outside noises that could resound through the walls either. He was given no time to gather his deductions, just moving his body slightly caused the air to burn his skin, and it felt particularly strong in his nipples.
“… what are you doing to me…?” he muttered in his low voice.
The Sister arched her brows, her wide eyes lit with joy. “Oh, this is merely to get you used to him. His touch can be a little… intense at times. Besides, doesn’t this feel good?”
Dimitri gritted his teeth, the ghostly hissing in his mind urging him to snap her neck once she got close enough, but he doubted it’d be wise to attempt that when he was literally at the mercy of half a dozen of people fondling his naked body, leaving no crevice untouched by invasive hands.
When he tried to move to the side, he was met by the woman on his left, gently brushing his hair, she pressed her lips against his without warning, her soft tongue coaxing his mouth to open in a heated kiss.
Dimitri was stunned, unable to comprehend why was this woman kissing him, the way she was touching him and spreading warmth in his mouth was quickly overwhelming him with unwanted comfort. Wanting to turn around, there was a man on his right who closed the distance between them as well, kissing Dimitri in the exact same way. He tried to resist, but found himself losing his composure to the way they’d take turns to gently suck his lips and ensnare his tongue with theirs; Dimitri couldn’t taste them, but he could feel them, and he was definitely not used to having his mouth stimulated this way. Yes, he had been kissed times before in his life, but never like this, and it didn’t help that he was still being caressed all over and feeling the chilly ointment over his sensitive skin, he moaned softly into the kisses every time he was being switched around. It was hopelessly entrancing, as if his body had given up to relaxation of being pampered.
Having his legs open, the fingers of one of them gently squeezed into his ass as the kissing eased the edge of that discomfort, teasing him until he was erect.
Sister Myriam came closer to touch his wet shoulders, the feather touch of her fingers made him shiver and look back at her, distraught from being interrupted from the recent ministrations.
“Dimitri, how about you try doing it yourself? Come on, don’t be shy, we’ve shown you how to do it” she smiled encouragingly.
He knew this wasn’t really an invitation; despite still feeling dumbed down by their pampering, the way that the fingers slowly withdrew from him were the sign they used to make him understand what Sister Myriam wanted of him.
He should be beyond indignant, but he already was heated from all that making out, his mind was foggy and open to suggestion. Before he knew it, his own trembling fingers were searching his backside, hesitantly touching his twitching rim, probing almost experimentally. He couldn’t work himself comfortably in this position, so he switched to lie on his side, spreading his thighs and holding his balls in this other hand to have better access.
‘Dimitri… why are you doing this?’
When he pushed his own finger in, it dawned on Dimitri what he was doing to himself. The voices started to reverberate around him, shadows and lights danced, stirring the living with the dead. He swore he heard Professor Byleth’s voice just now, which shouldn’t make any sense because they were still alive… right?
‘This is disgusting! I can’t bear to look!’
He started with a gasp, his body paralyzed and felt his breath shortening. That other mortified voice was Gustav’s, no doubt about it. What were they doing here? How could they be here? This wasn’t right!
Dimitri’s heaving got worse as he felt his body burning up. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you feeling well?” the Sister asked, he couldn’t tell if there was genuine concern in her voice or just a rehearsed reaction. When her hand reached down to him, he couldn’t stop himself from jerking away, his arms flung to hit the Sister’s hand.
“D-don’t touch me!” he screamed. “It’s enough, it’s enough already…! Just let me go!”
Not even a second passed and the acolytes hauled his body out of the mat with the most roughness they’ve ever used. The voices yelled at him all at the same time and Dimitri could not understand them.
He was forced on his knees by eight acolytes, their grip was so strong he knew they’d leave dark bruises later; they forced to face Sister Myriam… even though she was hardly emoting, words could not describe the terror he felt upon looking at her.
“Do we have to help you through this again, Dimitri? Do you need to meditate some more?” It was hard to focus on her words, but once one of her men handed her a familiar looking black bag, everything became clear. He tensed and struggled weakly against the acolytes, his heart thrumming in pure fear.
“No, no... no!” Dimitri shook his head, the Sister still managed to place the dark cloth on top of his head, rolling it down over his eyes. He cried out when he was blinded, and he strained even harder against their painful grip, feeling the pit of his stomach deepen.
He never felt them roll the rest of the mask over his face, his mouth was still not gagged nor his ears plugged, but he couldn’t stop shaking in dreaded anticipation.
“Well, we can continue as we were, or we can get you started with your meditation. It’s one or the other. Take your pick.” said Sister Myriam.
Dimitri didn’t know what to do. No matter the outcome, his dignity was worthless to them, whether he complied or not, they were still going to do everything they wanted with him. He couldn’t agree to that, but what choice did he have?
They took his long stillness as submission, and so, the Sister swiftly pulled the mask out again, her eyes looked down on him with trained tenderness. “Oh dear, we really gave you a bad scare, didn’t we?” It wasn’t necessary to say it, but Dimitri knew she only did to rub this shame on his face. The vicious grip lessened and the forced him to stand and then walked him to a different spot; his legs felt numb and his steps went dull, he wouldn’t run even if he wanted to.
They sat him down again in the mat with the cushions, he watched them bring that copper kettle again, and though his heart skipped a beat, he decided against acting upset: it wouldn’t do any good. “Here, let’s make you feel better.”
His head was pulled back, this time placing the spout close to his nose; it smelled like herbs. He opened his mouth and let them pour the warm liquid inside his mouth, wanting to avoid getting that thing in his ear again. He didn’t know what it tasted like, but the smell and feel in his tongue reminded him of tea; Dimitri gulped down the infusion until they quickly removed the kettle from his lips. The effects were more gradual than times before, but he still felt like there were tiny pricks crawling all under his skin. Regret sunk in immediately as he felt the voices not only dancing around him, but also pulsing throughout his body, as if they all decided to possess him at once.
As his body tried to get used to the sudden shivers, he was laid down on his back, hands stroking his muscles and then his genitals; his knees didn’t even need to be held open, he couldn’t will them to close, not with that growing ache that started to burn his insides.
Dimitri whimpered once somebody’s fingers began to violate him again, ashamed that it brought relief to the ills of his body.
But then… every face, every voice that haunted him, they became spectators of his humiliation. He started to see them clearly, faces upon faces, looking down on him.
‘I always knew you had it in you, you filthy boar.’ Felix scowled, his face too close to him as Dimitri let out a drawn-out moan, having a rough wet mouth, a man’s, engulfing and sucking his length and balls until he was throbbing hard. His back arched as more familiar voices came down to scorn him.
‘I thought that he’d at least have the decency to pretend to hate this.’ He was trying! But his body wasn’t acting like it should, just eagerly responding to every obscene touch, every nerve coming alive, kisses permeating his face, neck and nipples. He couldn’t help thrusting his hips up every time a finger found that sensitve spot inside his ass and abused again and again. ‘Yes, now that you mention it… he is enjoying this too much.’
His only eye rolled back as his orgasm hit him without warning, his own hand had come to cover his mouth to not cry out. It was shameful: to not be restrained, but use his hand only to stop his screaming, but nothing was stopping the cum splattering over that stranger’s face and his own stomach.
But much to his dread, his body wasn’t tired yet, didn’t take much for them to spur his erection back up, even though it shouldn’t be possible for him so soon. Dimitri didn’t even get time to rest when he discovered one of the men kneeling between his thighs and spreading him open to let a new cock pass.
“No, please…! “ It wasn’t like he wasn’t prepared and lubed, but it still happened too fast for him and before he knew it, the man was already fucking him eagerly, Dimitri wheezing from the shock and struggling to grab onto something, anything, to distract himself from the vivid faces that accompanied the voices, the living taking over the place of the dead. ‘He looks so undignified with his legs open like that.’
“D-don’t look…” he pleaded, but he didn’t know to whom. It could be Ingrid, could be Ashe, Sylvain, could be Mercedes or Anette, could be Dedue… the voices were returning to him, so distorted but so familiar. Pleading was all he could do as he was chained by the lewd whims of these people...
Dimitri was spun on his stomach and forced to support his weight on his forearms as the other man’s hips were locked upon his, each thrust becoming progressively harder, making him dizzier. ‘I bet he wouldn’t mind getting fucked by all his subjects like a whore.’
‘Gross, no! After all he’s letting them do? No, thank you.’ He groaned, hearing his friends talk like that mortified him. The man behind him pulled out, spreading his seed on Dimitri’s back; he shuddered at the feeling of his rear opening like that, and not a minute passed until more oiled fingers returned to continue spread him with ease. ‘Oh… he looks so nice and loose. He really must like it.’
Another cock started to penetrate him, slick and a little cold, Dimitri couldn’t see it but he knew it had to be a metallic one like that other time. He winced at the sudden forcefulness of its push, he couldn’t bring himself to look back, afraid that he’d be seeing Edelgard again. ‘Such disgrace you’ve brought on to yourself… How will you ever call yourself a ‘King’ again?’ Even so, he was whining with each thrust shaking his body, he could feel his arms failing to hold him in place, so he collapsed awkwardly with his hips still held up by the woman fucking him senseless.
Even that didn’t last long, he was turned around on his back again, hands forcing his ankles up high, he was roughly fucked at a new unbearable angle while two hands twisted both his nipples so cruelly hard; it made him squeal like an animal. ‘Look at that pathetic face, he can’t help acting like a cheap whore.’
‘He… does look pathetic.’ It didn’t matter whose voice was talking, they were at each side of his head, spinning, too close and too familiar to ignore. They might as well be right there with him, just watching Dimitri suffer at the hands of these perverts…
“… Somebody… help me…” he breathed, his only eye was pooling with water, he couldn’t see whose face was close enough to watch him now. ‘Great, now he’s crying.’
‘He looks cute when he cries though. They should fuck him harder.’ As if the words were cue, Dimitri was met with a particularly hard thrust that shook his entire body. He sobbed as the metallic cock was extracted from him, making him feel so horribly empty, as if his body was telling him that it wasn’t enough. ‘Heh, to think that I used to respect him. He’s becoming into nothing but a needy whore.’
His cock was given a few more pumps, the softer mouth of a woman begun kissing the tip, velvety lips that licked sucked his foreskin brought bliss to contrast to the pangs of a rough fucking. But that tongue… it would then caress the delicate flesh of his cock’s head, press almost insistently against his slit, as if wanting to pry it open. Dimitri heaved as his pelvis rocked against such obscene torment.
Hands on his face wiped his tears away, but another mouth closed in to kiss his cheekbone, right below his empty eye socket. He became conscious over the fact that his right eye lid was soaked in sweat and tears when he felt a tongue slid under his eyelashes. It was such an unprecedented feeling, Dimitri wasn't sure how to react, but to have an alien tongue lick the tender flesh of his empty cavity made him shudder uncomfortably. Combined with the sensations on his dick, it was quickly becoming too much for his mind to handle.
Another cold wet phallus would be wedged back into his ass while his dick was still being tortured, shamefully bringing more tears out of him. His mind and body were so messed up he couldn’t tell anymore if it felt good or not. That tongue swirled around the minuscule opening of his oozing slit, and his whole member was twitching, on the verge of coming.
It felt like a fever he couldn’t fight against; his teeth were chattering as he could barely do anything other than to moan. “… Please, somebody… Kill me…” The voices didn’t desist. ‘You don’t even deserve to be put out of your misery, you pig.’
Dimitri only whimpered more. “...please!”
From the corner of his eye, if he stared down for long enough, he could see the familiar cascade of white hair with golden horns between his legs, crimson hands caressing his stomach. ‘She’s here! Look at her! Look!’
He didn’t dare to look for longer, his mind wouldn’t be able to take it again. Everything was too much already, he clenched his eye shut. ‘Dimitri, look at me.’
He gasped, the authority of her voice still sent chills down his spine, threatening to make him go mad. “No, go away…!”
‘Look at me.’ But he refused.
“El, stop, I don’t want this, not like this...!”
‘Then how do you want it? Why do you keep bringing me back?’
“I’m not—! I don’t know... I don’t...”
Hands cupped his tear-stained face, even though her hands should still be on his hips and her mouth pleasuring his member, he could hear her voice so close, could even swear that he felt her breath upon his face. ‘… As always, you have zero control over your emotions. Do you enjoy being tortured by me that much?’
‘You’re loving this, aren’t you? Wasn’t she your step-sister?’ Though his body was beginning to ride the violent waves of a second climax, even though part of him wanted to give in, Dimitri refused to look. ‘Pervert.’ If he looked now, he wouldn’t be able to handle it.
He was jerked one last time as that dildo pressed firmly right behind that sensitive spot, it pressed so hard that he cried out when he convulsed in her soft mouth, she sucked each load vigorously, sucked so hard it was painful. For long seconds he moaned, feeling the flesh of his dick raw with overstimulation, even the slightest graze of a breeze made it hurt. The dildo was left inside him, as if abandoned to keep him stuffed.
The voices kept sneering at his suffering, he was soaked in that guilt. He was dirty, tired, didn’t even have the will to respond to them anymore.
But they weren’t done. No, they never seemed to ever be done.
They must’ve noticed his jaw gone slack after having stopped to speak, so Dimitri was taken aback when they propped his head in such a way that a man’s erection was being coerced into his spit-coated mouth. The strong musk and sweaty feel immediately caused him want to retch. His eye opened wide, and it hurt to readjust to the dim light, the shapes of naked skin dancing around him.
He couldn’t see Edelgard anywhere, couldn’t see anyone he knew, nothing other than hands and skin.
The hand of that man grabbed a handful of his hair to move his head back and forth. Dimitri was still struggling to understand what was going on, but the voices were restless, repeating the same thing again and again, an aggressive chanting of his own thoughts.
‘BITE HIM. BITE HIM.’
His face was twitching, as tired as his body was after the relentless abuse, the indignation was boiling deep within and rising up until he could feel how it blinded him, how it ate inhibitions that remained.
An explosion of warmth rushed in and out of Dimitri’s mouth, his jaw had closed tightly.
Screams sprouted all around him, voices that were no longer his to know. Next thing he knew was that something or someone knocked him back hard enough to make his head crash against the ground, the impact stunned him for a while. It only got worse after he felt a crushing pressure around his throat. It didn’t help that his mouth was pooling with all that warm liquid along that pulpy piece of meat, slowly choking him.
The throb in his head increased, his own hands were useless against the force being used to constrict his neck, and the screaming never was chaotic, and he couldn’t make out a single word, the lack of oxygen making his sight and the voices blur around him. Was this how he was meant to die? With a dildo shoved deep in his ass and a severed penis in his mouth?
As soon as it happened, the killer hold around his throat stopped. He was pulled to sit upright and thus he managed to spit out the thing he kept in his mouth. He was still too disoriented to let the magnitude of what he’s done sink in, all he had clear was that he was drenched in blood and now the hands were tying his arms back together.
There was a man crying and cursing in the floor next to him, his hands slick red applying pressure to his own crotch. Acolytes have reunited around the wounded man to offer aid, but that was as far as Dimitri could see.
He found Sister Myriam standing in front of him.
“Perhaps we were too lenient with you…” she said calmly, as she pulled a new handkerchief to clean up his drenched chin, leaving the white cloth all red. Her eyes were always big, and now more than ever, terrifying to contemplate.
He didn’t know if she finished cleaning his face before someone from behind gagged him with a rope of cloth. Dimitri was too exhausted and dumbfounded to react, but the moment the started to pull the black mask over his head, his mind entered in panic again. Some of his voices laughed at his misery, some of them cried in anger and frustration.
More rope started to tie him tightly, more than ever it seemed they wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t be able to move. He couldn’t see anymore but could still hear and smell the Sister. “I still have faith in you… but until then, I hope that you understand what you need to become for your own good and everyone else’s. I have faith that you will learn to behave, Dimitri.”
His ears were clogged, the mask pulled down, sending him back into that personal prison of darkness to atone. Within hours he began to bellow, but he could not even hear himself, his efforts were as good as if he never had a mouth in the first place.
This is becoming more of a slow burn than previously intended... sorry about that :v
I wasn't planning on using not!Edelgard this much, but I can't help it if she's such a good horror element.
The start of this chapter might be a little slow.
Warnings: More Psychological Torture, Sounding, More Crying, Tentacle Sex (kinda?), Sister Myriam just being horrible.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
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.
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.
Next update will take a little longer... chapter might be plot-heavy, but there's still gonna be some nasties.
Maybe I should include Stockholm Syndrome tag just to be sure.
EDIT 20/11/2019: Haha holy shit, I'm seriously sick with killer flu right now, I hope that I don't die before I update, that'd be embarrassing!
Sorry for the wait. I'm going through finals and the worst cough EVER. I'm glad that at least I managed to finish this without dying. As I said last chapter, this one is going to be a little character/plot-heavy.
Warnings: Mentions of somnophilia, Water Enemas, Inflation, Sounding, and The Voices being just plain nasty to poor Dim.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
It had been nearly a month, one tortuous long month. Still no signs of King Dimitri.
The realization of his disappearance wasn’t immediate, not until a whole day passed without reports of him being sighted; Dimitri was a man who liked his privacy, so it wasn’t strange that he’d escape the public eye even if just briefly.
But it wasn’t until the third day went by when people started to talk about strange happenings occurring the night Dimitri was last seen, mentioning that a chambermaid seemed to be changing his sheets late at night, and that one of the new stable boys had an accident with a horse, drawing the attention of the guards stationed at the castle’s entrance. Nor the chambermaid nor the injured stable boy were found again after the fact.
Gustav was the first one to come into the conclusion that Dimitri was abducted, and thus arranged to keep the matter behind closed doors until they could find him.
Dedue thought that it was strange to kidnap a political figure of such grand importance and to not ask for any ransom or, in the worst of cases, make their death public to throw the government into chaos. None of that happened. It was just a great consuming silence for excruciating weeks of search for nay leads.
Dedue would stay beside Gustav entire days awake, joining the searching parties for any trace of their King. It was a blessing that the Archbishop lent them the Knights of Seiros to help with their search; Byleth knew the importance of keeping Dimitri’s disappearance a secret, so they only sent a small number of their most trustworthy knights to not arise any suspicions from the people.
The few advisors and friends that Dimitri trusted were told the truth and they agreed to help maintain the peace by making up the story that he fell ill to a contagious disease that he needed to stay out of political matters for a period of time. It undoubtedly made the increasing mobilization to search for him difficult to disguise, but they’d think about the collaterals once they found him. Dedue couldn’t say that he particularly cared excessively about the overarching consequences, but every minute that it took them to make decisions was another minute in which they didn’t know if Dimitri was even still alive…
Being the last person who talked to the missing King, Dedue felt at blame even if nobody ostracized him after revealing his own testimony. Perhaps if he braved to knock at the King’s chambers’ doors that night maybe he could’ve prevented this from happening. He recalled it clearly, how he double-guessed himself at the large wooden doors until he decided to turn around and let him to sleep…Yes, he couldn’t have known that Dimitri would be taken, but this wouldn’t be the first time that he’s ever failed to protect him. He didn’t want to simply cling to the hope that Dimitri would somehow survive, because… what if that wasn't enough?
The leads were scarce and they weren’t getting anywhere closer to knowing where Dimitri was, at least not fast enough.
During the first month of search, Dedue was approached by Catherine, current captain of the Knights of Seiros, and after he inquired her about their leads, she made an expression that was… difficult to read. “We have suspicions about what, uh —whom— might’ve kidnapped His Majesty… Remember when we foiled Archbishop Byleth’s kidnapping attempt? From what we’ve gathered so far it’s the exact same modus operandi from those guys.”
Dedue frowned, recalling that he heard news of that at the beginning of the year. “It’s… that cult, right? The cult of Illia… Illythid…?”
“The cult of Illythis. They were a tiny group of fanatics, composed of mostly dark mages and eccentric nobles; Lady Rhea was particularly severe to them as far as heretic persecutions go, I was even dispatched to deal with them a handful of times when they caused trouble… I hear that they’ve gained some traction after the Empire declared war to Fodlán.” Catherine sighed, wearing an uncharacteristically detached look in her face. “… I really hope it’s not them though…”
“Why is that?” But his question only made her take more distance, as if merely talking was making her sick.
“… Never mind, I think I’ve talked too much already. We’d better hurry up and save His Majesty.”
Dedue wasn’t content with her answer, but a firm hand on his arm held him from pressing further. It was Felix, current Duke of Fraldarius, wearing a bleak expression that seemed more tired than usual.
“Don’t. Just… stop asking” he mumbled. Even if Felix was the one who berated Dimitri the most from his former classmates, it was clear that his disappearance weighed heavily on him. “Stupid boar, he better still be alive…”
Felix definitely knew more than he let on. His words haunted Dedue for the days that followed. Eventually he knew that he’d figure out what was so sinister about the cult of Illythis, and he’d understand why Catherine and Felix had such a look on their faces.
But he needed to hope Dimitri was alive. It was all they had left.
Ever since he was caught in here, he hasn’t prayed to the Goddess, not a single time.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he just couldn’t. Normally he’d be able to even if the voices were too many, he’d still be able to focus on the sound of his own voice; but ever since he was captured and constantly administered drugs, the voices got too loud and he couldn’t even hear his own for long enough. And when they were quiet, he was too worn out, too out of focus to even consider praying. Thinking about it for a rare moment of self-reflection, it only made Dimitri’s pride hurt worse. Just another of the many things that these people already stripped from him.
There was no real rest for him in this place, when it was ‘bed-time’ he’d just lay in a mat with cushions and several naked acolytes who’d constantly run their hands all over his tired body after what was another exhausting day of near relentless assault on his body. Even after it was all over, he had woken up a couple of times to someone having full-on intercourse with his sleeping body, and he was helpless to resist their advances. It seemed like it was a collective and constant effort from them to keep him in this feverish state, he watched some of them leave just to be quickly replaced by others, probably because they needed to rest. Most of the time Dimitri was too out of it to even notice, but when he did and he didn’t have the energy to try and find an opening; he would only close his eye again and sink back into that sea of sweat and warm skin.
He thought of praying again, but what good would it be? Would the Goddess even find it acceptable that he chose this moment and place to pray?
A familiar voice crept right behind his ear. ‘Has the Goddess ever answered to your prayers? To you, when you needed her the most?’ Dimitri could sense the cold embrace of her blood-drenched body against his, in this quiet suffocating sanctuary. ‘Or… were you just praying all those years for her to quickly take you away?’ There was no venom behind her words, only pity and apprehension.
“… Was it like this for you too… El?” he murmured, his voice was barely there, barely his own, but decided to spend it on her nonetheless. ‘You know that I stopped praying to the goddess long ago’ she replied.
His eye peered to the ceiling, but could only see the faces of his Father, Glenn, or Rodrigue, even those who haven’t joined the ranks of dead yet. It was always unnerving, but he couldn’t do anything about them anymore. They couldn’t touch him, but she could. Did that make her real and the others not? What was it about Edelgard’s ghost that made her far more real to him than the Goddess herself?
‘Yet another god has found you. Do you think that he’ll answer your prayers instead?’
The echo of that question shook him to the core, reminding Dimitri of that creeping sensation of an inhuman appendage invading his insides and how it made him lose control. The thought of associating something like that to a ‘god’ was enough to make him shiver in cold sweat as two hands fondled his waist and his thighs. A beast… a ‘God’ wanted to fuck him. That was the reason why these people brought him here: to have him fucked by their depraved incomprehensible God.
“…Goddess… help me…” he moaned weakly, nobody except his ghosts could hear him. He could feel her teeth grazing the shell of his ear. ‘It’s pointless… but you know that already, don’t you?’
That was all Dimitri had of her for the rest of the night. She’d come back. She always did.
Ever since he was pulled out of the mask for the second time, they started to put him inside a new routine in which they’d keep him kneeling upright by shackling his wrists to a wall. It wasn’t like he was trying to fight back, so the damage to his wrists was very minimal. What they’d do next was to lube and shove a hose into his sensitive hole (depending on how roughly they ‘trained’ him that day), and the hose would begin to pour warm water into his insides.
At first, it’d just stop with only go for a minute until he could feel his bowels fill uncomfortably, they’d have him expel all the water at the end. He first presumed that they did this merely to ‘clean’ him up there too, but as days went by, he started to notice they’d leave the hose in for longer, they’d let the water flow faster. Before that they’d always balm him with that strange ointment that made his nude skin feel prickly and then massage his stomach.
It wasn’t until one day that Dimitri really began to feel cramps in his lower abdomen when he started to pay more attention, growing restless as the haze of exhaustion faded little by little. The pressure below his navel was increasing, the liquid filling his guts until it found another way to flow further and further inside. The hose’s nozzle was also large enough to prevent liquid from spilling out elsewhere, so further in it had to go.
He groaned from the discomfort, Dimitri could barely notice a difference, but it felt like he was bloating from having so much water taking up all the space it could fit in. The question finally came up in his head as he noticed how intently the Sister had been watching without breaking eye contact. He watched her murmur something to one of the acolytes nearby and then approached back to him, sitting right beside him. Not a moment transcended yet and Dimitri could already feel the rush of water increasing in force so drastically that his breath hitched.
Responding to his distress, her hand caressed his cheek. “Deep breaths, deep breaths… yes, that’s right.” Even though it now came naturally to him to do as she said, he knew it was wrong. And as always, every silent doubt he had, Sister Myriam had an answer that did nothing to smother his anxiety. “The Master’s seed will be plenty, and you'll need to have the stomach to take all of it without getting hurt.”
Yet again, he could barely wrap his head around these ideas “H-how…? How do you know all these things?” he uttered mindlessly. At this point the pain of his bowels shifting because of the water was something he really wanted to ignore, so he just wanted to take his mind off it by talking to her.
However, there was something… different about her smile.
“… I was once his Bride too, you know?” In a moment of lucidity, Dimitri heard a low grumble down his gut, but she didn’t hear it. “Years ago, I was chosen by him for my Crest, just like you. But then… well, unfortunate things happened when the Knights of Seiros found us. Our children were slaughtered, and I was unable to conceive ever since then...” Her hand lingered over his stomach for a moment, a single gesture that chilled Dimitri to the bone. “So please don’t worry yourself: I know better than anyone what needs to be done to be prepared for him. You can trust me.”
Dimitri stared at her for longer, his jumbled mind trying to digest what she just said. The pressure in him only heightened as he could feel the water pool deep inside his stomach, bloating him until his breathing was heavy too. The rising curve of his lower abdomen was becoming too noticeable, the cramping gradually becoming worse. The heat too. He wasn’t slightly surprised upon realizing that the rush of water swirling in his loins revived that needy ache that made his face fill with fever and pumped hot blood towards his hardening member. They must’ve put something in the water too, he thought.
It was like becoming a boiling pot, helplessly feeling how his guts were bloating as the substances made him a slave of want. He groaned and felt his wrists constrain uselessly against the shackles, the pressure in his loins was in constant growth and threatened to make him burst. The more he was forced to take in, the worse it hurt… and the worse it hurt, the louder the voices became.
‘Look at his belly! He’s starting to look pregnant!’
‘Just looks like a fat boar to me.’
His eye closed under the humiliation, couldn’t bear to see the faces of his friends mocking him while he was being tortured like this. But they were right, his stomach was bulging so much that his skin was stretching outward, making it look unnatural... He couldn’t control his own bodily reactions either, his hips rolled slightly when the pressure over his bladder became too much of a source of unwanted pleasure, his loud gasps as his body’s center grew heavier as more seconds passed by.
Until it stopped. Or it felt like it stopped. He was too drunk in the substances embed to the water that it was hard to perceive small changes in his surroundings. He was so full that he didn’t realize exactly when the flow of water stopped until an acolyte reached for the hose and gently pulled until he could feel the nozzle grind against that sensitive spot inside, making him whine low. They didn’t remove the hose, aware that he’d just spill the water if he had the nozzle completely pulled away.
They seemed intent on keeping the liquids inside him for as long as possible, the Sister’s hand gently rubbed his swollen stomach even though it did little to ease the flush of conflicting sensations making his head spin. The voices wouldn’t stop ridiculing him for how he looked, but his dick was still throbbing ignored under the gained weight on his abdomen.
That’s when one male acolyte returned and lubed a familiar-looking small metallic rod, and before Dimitri could even form a sentence, he watched as his erection was held still while that instrument was once more slipped into his opening slit, making him moan with need. It went in almost too easily, but his body had been starving for stimulation that it gladly accepted to be defiled again. When the end of the rod reached that bundle of nerves deep within him, Dimitri screamed.
It was too much, the pressure from being this full, the nozzle tormenting his insides, the metallic rod probing his most sensitive place all at once… his whole body was riddled with painful spasms, ejaculating so hard that he nearly pushed that rod all the way out, which was rapidly prevented by the acolyte attending him, just bringing the long utensil smoothly back inside. Dimitri couldn’t stop whimpering, swaying his hips every time a load of cum struggled to ooze through his violated slit.
‘Ha-ha-ha! Look how much he’s coming!’
‘…So gross, he really will enjoy anything they put him through.’
In the throes of his orgasm, the acolyte leaned down to take the head of Dimitri’s pulsing cock in his warm wet mouth, licking him thoroughly clean even though the rod was still inside him. The sensation was far too much, Dimitri sobbed through the last spasms until he felt the skin of his dick completely raw. And with how much his body was shaking, the heavy slosh of water inside made him feel like a stranger in his own skin.
The Sister, whose hands have been absent for a while, petted his sweaty hair, making him look away in shame.
“No need to be embarrassed, you can come as much as you like, that’s the point of this exercise.”
How many more things could they do to his body and still make him submit to horrid waves of bliss again and again?
“Let’s repeat that, shall we?” He was allowed a brief respite to recover his breath, soon gentle strokes revived his erection, but this time the acolyte’s hand went below Dimitri’s shaft, grabbing the hose still stuck inside and then started to press it back inside.
Dimitri flinched as he felt the nozzle press against his prostate, the acolyte’s cue to know how far to press, shallowly thrusting the hose into that spot to keep stimulating him. No doubt all the water would gush out if the hose was pulled too much.
The feeling of having the nozzle rubbing against his sensitive spot while that rod was still deeply buried in his cock was utterly obscene, his body couldn’t help shaking from the pain and it made him whine so uncharacteristically softly, like his mind was failing to make any sense out of this; he was just letting it happen, letting it build another devastating orgasm to expand the cracks on his breaking spirit.
His balls were gently squeezed as his new climax broke quickly through him, this time the explosion of pleasure tensed his body so that the cramps in his bowels worsened, making Dimitri writhe as each agonizing load pushed against the rod inserted in his urethra. With each painful throb that stretched this second orgasm to what felt like an eternity, he thought that he might eventually fall apart.
‘You’re going to die, Dimitri.’
‘Even your Father died a better death.’
He heard the Sister coo at him until he realized how much he was crying. His head, moist with tears, sweat and drool had fallen to rest against his right arm. Right there, there was a small clicking sound and the suddenness of gravity made his arms fall uselessly to his sides as they were shackled no more.
He was about to fall forward, but a group quickly got a hold of him and gently put him to lie on his back, causing the contents of his bloated stomach to lurch uncomfortably from the change of position. They propped his legs as to make sure they could keep the hose inside him, keep him ‘plugged’, so it seemed like it was their intent to make him hold the liquid inside for as long as possible.
Sister Myriam was still close to him, her big eyes still perched upon him.
“It hurts, Sister… it hurts…” he whimpered.
“There, there…” Her hand caressed his stomach again, this time making him so painfully aware of how full he was. “Bear with it just a little longer… occupy your mind with this.”
Something pressed against Dimitri’s lips and out of habit he parted them to let the fingers enter. Except now they weren’t fingers. It was hard and it was cold, bigger, phallic. A girl was thrusting a dildo into his mouth, and he was unsure how to proceed, so he clumsily sucked it like he’d suck someone else’s fingers.
“There you go. Just do it just like we taught you. You need to learn how to do it properly” the Sister said, but he was so tired, so dizzy that he could barely listen. He just focused his attention on sucking to the toy, take his mind off from the pain, the shame of being so horribly bloated. Other hands pulled and twisted at his sore nipples, the dull ache that he found comforting because of how they distracted him from every other pain. “That’s very good, you’re learning quick…” He briefly eyed Sister Myriam beaming, yet right behind her, the dozens of faces of his own friends, all observing the pitiful state of their King.
He kept on suckling until he could no longer keep conscious, until he could no longer feel their gazes nor their words stabbing at him so cruelly.
The groom is coming....
Also next update will be longer than usual, I think... so maybe it'll take a good couple of weeks to get it done.
Finals are over (kinda), and instead of doing something responsible, I decided to post this chapter early. Been listening a lot to Colin Stetson, which is probably what kept me writing at late hours these past few days.
Warnings: Fisting, Body Modification (very subtle though), Tentacle Sex, Overstimulation, Mind Break.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Days would go by faster once Dimitri understood that it was much easier to obey instructions to his best ability, so that’s exactly what he learned to do. Resisting proved to do more harm than good anyway, and in spite of reducing his pride to shambles, at least he could make it end as quickly and painless as possible.
They bathed him every day, they clothed and fed him two meals a day, they stimulated his muscles to prevent atrophy, and any injuries were immediately taken care of if not prevented. It was difficult to deny that they treated him more like a high-maintenance pet rather than a prisoner, but nothing changed the fact that every day they drugged him and coerced him into all sorts of depraved acts.
Learning how to ride a cock was one of the relatively easier things to do since so many helping hands constantly guided him every step of the way, steering him in the right position, telling him how to move and when to stop. It was easy, given that gravity itself did most of the work, his own weight pulled him all the way down unto whatever cock that awaited his prepared hole; bigger and stranger dildos would be brought before him to sit on once they tired of seeing him fuck himself on human flesh. Some of those artificial cocks were thicker and longer than what a human was able to ever be, and he knew that was the point.
There was a moment in which Dimitri understood how to move a certain way to make it feel good, and much to his dread, he picked up on that fast, finding the incentive of pleasure hard to fight. And if he managed to suck a cock at the simultaneously, they’d help him to come faster, help him rest better… so he took it up surprisingly fast, even if his mouth would never grow used to the feeling of sucking unto hard insipid objects. Understandably, they never braved to let him suck a real dick again, but Sister Myriam seemed always happy to provide extra fingers to stretch his mouth for wider girths, besides they always seemed extremely careful to not let him choke in any way.
And then at the end of the day, they’d prepare to fill him with water again, which was by far the worst part of their regimen, he decided. Not so much because of the painful sensation, but because of how they managed to make it feel good nonetheless, and it was breaking him. He hated the implication that they expected something inhuman to fill him that much, and he knew he'd never be prepared to handle something of that fantastic capacity. He'd rather die.
The voices’ near constant humiliation only made him feel worse, every moment that he gave in to the pleasure made the weight of that disgrace heavier to bear. It’d eventually crush him, he was sure. With every day that passed by, he was growing certain that nobody was coming to save him, and that was probably for the best. Who would even want to save a whore-King? Why would they? Someone as filthy as himself wasn’t worthy anymore of respect or love, not from his dear Faerghus anyways…
It was hard to maintain his attention when just woke up from another night of being molested while trying to sleep, but when he was pulled up before Sister Myriam’s presence and he immediately knew that something new would happen. He always dreaded new things.
His stomach still hurt from last day, so naturally he couldn’t help to flinch when the Sister’s hand felt his abdomen, pressing her cold palm firmly against his heated skin.
“Now that you got a feel of how it’s like to hold the Master’s seed inside, it’s time that we make sure you’ll be able to carry his offspring properly.”
Her words, dreamlike, passed through Dimitri’s head like a demented blur, something he could hear and understand but never fully grasp, as all that drugging had spoiled what remained of his common sense. He could only blink with a dumbfounded look on his face as he was laid on his back by other acolytes, already oiling up the crack of his ass diligently as Sister Myriam knelt right in front of him.
Fingers worked his entrance with ease, pliant from days of tireless use, it was only a matter of few minutes before they managed to pry him open with four fingers. The shock of cool air touching his insides made him whine, and his clumsy hands would instinctively clasp on the clothes of the acolytes of his sides.
He was now so used to this, Dimitri knew better than to fight the assault of unwanted sensations, but at some point all these sensations had become not so unwanted anymore. His body reacted with painful anticipation when fingers teased him at his rim, craving for direct stimulation.
“Keep his legs spread, please.” Sister Myriam instructed them as she rolled up the white sleeves of her dress and began to oil her left hand generously up to her wrist. He would think nothing of it, but it was rare for her to touch him in the same way that the acolytes did. Her fingers were slender and smooth when they slipped into him with ease, the hands of the other acolytes removed themselves from him to hold his thighs apart.
She must’ve taken his gasp as incentive, so she kept on pouring more oil on her hand as she delves her digits deeper inside him. Her hand was so surprisingly small, or perhaps he’s grown used to bigger things violating his ass, but the knowledge that she was squeezing all her five fingers into him at once was making his blood pump faster. When the width of her fist passed through his rim, he whined softly feeling her fingers move inside him. She deliberately brushed her knuckles up against his sensitive spot to see how he jolted.
The Sister smiled, pleased with his reactions, so she’d repeat her motions to further make him writhe and hitch his breath. Nobody had touched his cock yet but he was already so painfully hard, he knew he’d only need no more than a few touches to come at this point. Was the drug this strong now, or did he only learn to react to it the intended way?
She spent a while entering and withdrawing from him, constantly oiling up her arm as she managed to go deeper inside him, deeper than what he thought it’d be possible. ‘Oh, he can nearly take her elbow.’
Dimitri looked away, not wanting to see the faces of his friends again, their voices still ringing in his head far and close. ‘I bet normal sized cocks won’t be able to satisfy him anymore.’ It seemed like they only got worse whenever he was so turned on he felt feverish. ‘That’s his royal Whoreness for you.’
His one eye focused again to one place, only for the familiar face of King Lambert to show up again, and a strong feeling of nausea overtook him, making him tense around Sister Myriam. ‘I am disgusted beyond words, Dimitri. How could I even call you my son now?’ He wanted so hard to shrivel in pain and throw up, wanted with all his strength to at least demonstrate that he still had fight in him, but he could only freeze in place and let the tears flow amongst his muted whimpers, his only eye trying to look away ‘A shameless whore, that is what you’ve become.’
With his distress growing more and more palpable, he felt the hands of the acolytes trying to soothe him with tender touches and kisses, but instead, his eye saw Edelgard’s crimson figure taint the place where the Sister was supposed to be. His Father’s voice only barked louder.
‘Treacherous! To allow that wicked woman to defile your body! You have no shame!’
‘Be quiet.’ her voice shut him down, as if she had authority over the rest of the voices. Did Dimitri really concede her that much power? She looked down on him, her hand leisurely retiring from him as he was coming undone by the touches and kisses of people without faces. ‘… You brought this upon yourself. You refuse to let go and that’s why you’re hurting.’ He clenched his only eye shut, feeling her fist drag through his rim. ‘You will keep holding on until there’s nothing left of you. You’d rather to be ruined before letting your ghosts go, don’t you, Dimitri?’
“I’m ruined anyway, so why does it matter…?” he muttered, feeling a broken smile tug at his trembling lips. It wasn’t like he could merely will them away. The Goddess knew that he tried for years.
His view was getting blurry from all the tears, so he could only tell where her face was because of the gold of her crown of horns. He suddenly held his breath as he watched the shape of El’s face come closer to him, and then felt a tender wet warmth was gently coaxed into his mouth, and his sloppy tongue was greeted by hers, so brief yet so intoxicating. Why was her blood-drenched mouth so sweet?
‘Then so be it.’ she finalized, even if the proximity heated him, her words always managed to chill him.
He felt hollow with the absence of that hand in his insides, but soon after he felt something else pressing against his loosened-up hole. Something cold and smooth. Another dildo perhaps? It felt… smaller though, so much smaller than the usual.
The fist squeezed itself back inside him without delay, this time alongside that small object. He spasmed, the terrible suddenness of that arm plunging deep inside his channel for a second time was enough to make him sob. His dick was throbbing with pain and need. Where did El vanish to now? Sister Myriam was the only one between his legs.
The arm just kept on going further, and before he knew it, it was retiring once more. But for some reason the fist had gone loose, pulling out so agonizingly slow that Dimitri barely noticed that something was amiss. ‘Wait, what did she put in him?’ The voices were, predictably, the first to notify him of the obvious. ‘She left something inside.’
Sister Myriam cleaned her arm with a towel as she looked into his face, her eyes were content and warm as he could still feel his insides palpitate from the thorough invasion. Her palm then returned to touch his stomach, right above his navel, and she pressed a spot that made Dimitri nearly jump from the sudden pain.
“Can you feel it in here?” she spoke, rubbing that place, and he could feel something hard and alien stuck deep within him. The dread of this realization only made the pain more noticeable. “It’s going to hurt a little for a few days, but we’ll be happy to soothe any discomfort, as always.”
Dimitri groaned, his body squirmed lightly as he began experiencing the strongest stomachache that he’s had in recent memory. The acolytes followed the Sister’s example and massaged that sore spot in his abdomen, which only made the ache manageable for a bit, but didn’t disrupt the wrongness of the feeling. The sensation went on for a few more minutes, and to calm him they gently stroked and licked his stiff cock until they finally let him come, helping him to ease the tension even if just a little.
However, it didn’t seem like they had plans on removing that object inside him any time soon. Sister Myriam looked pleased, stroking poor Dimitri’s stomach for a while longer. “Yes… it seems like your body is accepting it just fine. That’s good. You’re almost ready…”
Dimitri would feel in the following days like he’s been stabbed in the stomach and the still-hot knife was left buried in his guts, so the acolytes were quick to muffle any signs of extreme pain with oils and potions that would just calm down to a degree, replacing the hurt with an itch akin to arousal.
For that, the discomfort would lessen significantly only if he was coaxed to orgasm, but within only a matter of few hours he realized that even though he was being constantly brought to climax, the relief was short-lived. The real ache was, in fact, located deep within his guts, as if that one spot that the Sister touched was demanding angrily to be stimulated too. It got so bad that he felt like his skin was burning up and his mind sunk into a near-constant state of vertigo, and he couldn’t stop trying to get himself off, fruitlessly.
It wasn’t long before Dimitri was mindlessly begging and crying, clutching his stomach, wanting something big enough to attack that terrible itch within him, but nobody gave him what he asked. He didn’t care about what the voices said anymore, didn’t even care that his body had sufficient energy to move around freely and make a solid attempt to escape, he just wanted desperately to feel relief, throwing away any reservations or logic that remained in him. He even attempted to crawl on top of one of the best-endowed male acolytes to fuck him, but to no avail. Suddenly, it seemed like they were outright avoiding the use any phallic objects to pleasure him.
Once they tried to drive him insane relentlessly violating his body, but now they were effectively making him lose his mind with the insufficient stimulation. His own desperate hands weren’t enough to do the job. It was as if his body would wither and die if not given what it craved; it was like a great pit in his belly that only kept getting bigger and more painful to ignore.
Ultimately, the Sister decided that he’d need to be tied up again, fearing that in his restlessness he’d end up hurting someone else or himself. He wasn’t put inside the mask and he wasn’t rendered completely immobile, but his wrists and legs were bound in such a way that he wouldn’t be able to touch himself anymore. This only made the ache worsen, with his thoughts spiraling into disarray his pleas came off as aimless slurs. Even the words of his ghosts started to become incomprehensible.
And perhaps this was their intent, to whatever their agenda entailed, they found it convenient to make Dimitri helpless in the face of maddening desire. Leaving him bound like that, he was stewing in his own bodily fluids until he passed out from fever. It was a blessing to fall asleep, but even in dreams his body would stir under the effects of the drugs.
It’s been a week since Sister Myriam put that thing inside him, a whole week in which the acolytes’ tasks were divided between keeping an eye on their Bride and the intricate preparations for the arrival of their Master. The Bride’s mind was too far off gone to even notice the increase of movement around him, so the Sister could oversee both factions hard at work without losing much sleep.
For Dimitri it didn’t make much difference. His body was burning up with want once he woke from that heavy sleep, his limbs were freed but they couldn’t do more than move clumsily to help himself sit. With his bondage undone he was rapidly taken to the bathtub and had every inch and crevice of his body washed thoroughly, then his body was ointed with that perfumed oil that made his skin sensitive crawl with sensitivity.
The terrible ache was still there, but he was soon administered a heavy dose of their concoction, meant to ensure the success of the long-anticipated union between him and their Master.
When they were done preparing him, the Sister gazed at him with a proud smile, grabbing him by his chin as to let every other person in the room take a good look at him.
“Ah, behold that complacent look in his face. Our dear Bride is fully prepared to meet the Master”, she spoke at the start of the day, and the words only passed through Dimitri’s head without so much as making him groan. His loins ached for so much, it was crippling his ability to think clearly.
The air smelled heavy with burnt wood and herbs, Dimitri was walked for a few rooms into one illuminated with torches whose fire burned an unnatural blue, the walls were painted with dark glyphs that seemed to want to paint an elaborate map around the focal point of the whole place. At the center of the room there was a well of stone where the glyphs seemed to converge, and a mattress was positioned right in front of the well.
Sister Myriam was standing right in front of that well, looking at him expectantly as he was made to sit on the mattress, as disoriented as he was, it’d be impossible for him to walk there without letting his knees give away. The effects of the drugs greatly dumbed down his sense of balance, so he could barely maintain his sitting position without swaying a little. His hands were no better, the dizziness dulled the synchronization of his fingers with his brain, impeding him from touching himself effectively to get some relief for that unreachable ache.
The acolytes left his side to join those already standing at the corners of the ominous room, and he started to hear a subtle hum filling the air, which slowly evolved into a simple yet captivating melody. It was soothing, in its own strange way, like a lullaby. He could swear he also heard the echo of something splashing from the depths of that well.
Sister Myriam stretched her hand towards Dimitri’s sultry face, her thumb lingered for a bit over the swell of his lower lip. Her big eyes were brimming of joyous tears.
“Dimitri, it’s time. Now... show him how well-prepared you are to receive his gifts.”
He didn’t know why, but his heart began to race as all the simultaneous sounds whorled louder around him. Some new smell joined with that of the embers and herbs, a strange humid smell that distantly reminded him of fish.
Something was crawling outside of the well, something huge, heavy that dragged its wet limbs towards the mouth of the dark well. Dimitri felt a stab of pain in his head as he heard a new sound, he couldn’t tell if it was a murmur or just some sort of growl, and it hurt to listen to it coming closer. Sister Myriam stood up to turn her face back to the shaft, not showing any signs of discomfort from those sounds.
“Yes, Master… We’ve done all just as you asked. Everything should be perfect…” she said, and it was in that moment when Dimitri saw several snake-looking things jump outside of the shaft. Dimitri faintly realized they resembled… that living limb that was used to fuck him one time. He watched Sister Myriam shiver as one of those barbed tentacles gentle coiled around her leg under her dress. “Oh, my Love… it's been so long, I’ve missed you too, I’ve missed you so terribly…” she whined.
As briefly as it went past her, she stepped aside, as if she’s been given an order to move. Couldn't help to notice that she seemed distraught, even if just for a split second.
Still trying to process what was happening before him, Dimitri took a deep breath as a large body pulled itself out of the hole, the mysterious humming of the acolytes intensified. The smell was difficult to describe, such as the form of the creature that came out of the well, he could only see gray wet skin and the dark spots around its barbed tentacles that were crawling closer to the mattress. The closer it moved towards him, the longer its features were and the more incomprehensible its form became.
‘Dimitri, you need to run.’ For a moment, Dimitri froze in fear, not knowing where to begin to understand the creature that was standing right in front of him and the chain of reactions it unleashed in his own body. ‘You have to go now!’
His mouth was agape upon the horrifying sight, feeling its beady small eyes gaze at him in silent acknowledgement. It’s mollusk-like body was mostly just a head (if it could even be called that) and a mass of tentacles of all sizes and lengths, no discernible human-looking features to be found. Even so, he could hear murmurs coming from it, murmurs that he couldn’t decipher and dazed him more.
He could feel the itch in his gut, the unbearable throb that was softly begging him to let that monster ravage his body. Suddenly the thought of having those fleshy appendages all over and under his skin was making Dimitri’s mouth tremble and his knees bend in a haze of lust. ‘You idiot, you’re going to die! RUN!’ If no acolyte would try to alleviate that ache, maybe It would…?
‘Please, run!’ The moment the first tentacle grabbed his ankle, Dimitri jumped at the slimy feel of its skin, immediately the substance made him prickly, as if poison was directly injected to his nerves with merely a touch. ‘RUN, DIMITRI!’ It would’ve triggered a fighting response from him, but as more of those tentacles began to coil themselves around his legs and the rest of his body, the little fight he could still muster was obliterated. It was like being embraced by strong and warm arms all over. ‘Or maybe not, you brainless whore… Of course you don’t wanna run.’
It touched and slid over his thighs and buttocks, slipped mindlessly over his sore erection and his stomach, until the buttery sensation of that skin caressed his chest and arms and neck. At this point Dimitri couldn’t stop trembling with want, his thighs spread open as he gasped through his dry throat, pleading for Its attention where he needed it the most.
Finally, the creature moved closer, its small finger-thin appendages descended down to Dimitri’s cock and his nipples, and he felt a rush of new desperation when his erection was touched by them, making his hips buck up as he felt them coil around his tip and probe experimentally at his slit; the exact same was happening to his nipples too, though the pull was more forceful and it made him cry out in shock. It felt as if the creature was more interested in investigating his body rather than outright ravaging him.
More of these smaller tentacles went for Dimitri’s face, as he was breathing heavily from the onslaught of sensations, they found his open mouth as an invitation. He offered no resistance when they entered his mouth, but he was nonetheless surprised by how one of them coiled itself around his tongue, pulling and playing with it too, the subtle prick of the tendrils caused his mind swim as the drool began to pool in his mouth. He couldn’t even begin to think of the feel, not when they were invading his mouth and overwhelmed it, making it harder for him to form coherent thoughts. The drugs already did a number with Dimitri, but whatever poison coated the tentacles, its effects were far stronger than anything he’s been given before. It was like being heavily drunk while his nerves were burning up, every tiny touch felt like it’d easily split his skin open like wet paper if they moved too roughly.
He couldn’t stop whining, the feeling of that living tendril trying to worm itself into his urethra while his nipples were being tugged and twisted until they were red, everything was too much. Once it stopped playing with his mouth, he took a jagged breath, his tongue felt swollen and sensitive, so his following words were a little more than a slurred mess:
“S-stop teasing me… please…” His insides were aching, that damned spot within him pulsed uncontrollably, he couldn’t even refrain from rocking his hips up, his hands carelessly touching his inner thighs and below his perineum, feeling his rim twitch helplessly. “Here… put it in h-here…”
Then he heard them again. Not his voices, no, strangely so they’ve gone quiet for a while now. But Dimitri could hear the murmurs, the soft cooing coming from that mass of tentacles, and he could feel them echo throughout his head, telling him that everything would be alright, reassuring him that this was good for him. Such terrible gentleness, it reminded him of Sister Myriam. No wonder.
Thicker bumpy tentacles grabbed his thighs and quickly pulled his legs up, bending Dimitri in half as he felt the tip of something wet and thick rub against his entrance, forcing its way without further delay.
The stretch was immediately overwhelming, the barbed texture of the appendage brushed against his needy flesh and breached him in a way that made his whole frame shiver. He cried out in agony as his hands scrambled to grab on to something, anything… so he held onto the body of tentacles as he jolted with every inch diving into his ass. It embraced him back, wrapped him so wholly that it felt like he belonged in that space, all while its murmurs kept curling into his ears, giving him comfort.
Yes, yes! This is why he was brought to this place! He was going to become the Bride of this monster and let it fill him up. This is how it was supposed to be! Oh, he didn’t remember when he last felt this much joy, it was so good that it hurt!
His own body rocked in anticipation, wanting more of it inside, more of it so it could reach that spot and release him from that itch that afflicted him so much, but it was moving too slow, not deep enough yet. Patience, It said. He needed to be a little more patient.
Dimitri’s pitiful moans echoed throughout the room, they muffled the humming of the acolytes. The tentacle that thrusted inside him kept going deeper, each bump of its texture that brushed against his prostate brought him closer to the edge, filling him like a cup that would soon spill; soon he would have his relief…
Another tentacle, closer to the size of the one penetrating him, pressed to the corner of Dimitri’s mouth while he was whining, immediately making him understand what it wanted him to do. Its head was different though, it was split open like a flower, each petal with tiny bristles inside. Even so, he moved his face to take the appendage into his lips, his tongue licking its slimy split head before sucking it heartily, allowing its petals to capture his tongue and play with his lips, as if they were kissing him.
Ah. A kiss, for the Bride.
The moment those tiny bristles pricked his skin, Dimitri felt like his thoughts were melting out of his ears, his only eye rolling to the back of his skull with the rush of bliss that assaulted his nerves, sending unending shivers across his body. He didn’t know if that tentacle reached the itch, he didn’t know if they were still teasing his nipples or his cock, didn’t even know if he came… his mind simply went blank and his face went completely slack.
Dimitri didn’t even know when it ended or how it ended, but his body kept spasming even after he lost consciousness.
Aaaand I apologize if that was... anti-climatic, but I will make up for it, I promise. Just another heads-up for the following chapter because it's again going to be plot-heav(ier).
Just as promised, this chapter is more 'plot-heavy'. It may have some smut sprinkled all over it, but yeah, I legit forgot I was supposed to write smut until I realized 'oh yeah, this was supposed to be smut too'. There will be some angsty comfort(?) too, but.... yeah, mind the new tags.
WARNINGS: Tentacle rape, ANGST, Attempted Rehab, Sleep Paralysis, Disturbing Imagery, Even more Tentacle Rape, All the way through (yup).
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
And so there was their Bride, so beautifully tangled in the Master's embrace, so blissful, so lost and oh, so compliant. Sister Myriam couldn't help but to feel a little envious and nostalgic, seeing the new Bride give himself for the first time to the many pleasures that their Master offered. She was proud of her work. And the Master looked very happy too, the Church's chant seemed to entice Him to thrust more vigorously and deeply into His new Bride, causing his legs to jerk helplessly with every movement.
She could still remember it how it was, the sensation of being so utterly filled until the mind wouldn't give an excuse for the heart to not be content. To see Dimitri quiver from sheer pleasure beneath the Master's warmth reminded Sister Myriam that every waking hour she spent working on the new Bride had been worth it. It reminded her of everything her predecessor did to ensure she could fulfill that role as well, reminded her that ultimately every indisposition was vanquished under the absolute light of Illythis' love.
But everything joyous always came to an end, unfortunately.
Their lair's doors from above were blasted open and suddenly all her fellow acolytes gasped and jumped as the sudden noise of the clash of weapons and magic along with the screams of alert ensued. Of all the times to be ambushed...
“No! The Master hasn't finished consummating their union!” she shouted, feeling red bloom through her face. “Hold them back, our priority is to keep the Master safe!”
Everyone already knew what to do in such emergencies, especially since the Bride was none other than the ruling King of Fódlan, so it was only natural that they anticipated the possibility of facing both the Knights of Seiros and Faerghus… yet they were still caught at their most vulnerable moment; she didn't think that they'd be found out this soon, she had planned to move them from this hideout right after the first seeding of their Bride.
But Illythis didn't seem too fazed by the chaos upstairs, he was still focused on making love to His Bride in spite of the disrupted chants from the acolytes who participated in the ritual. She quickly instructed them to go out and help to make some time. As much as it hurt Sister Myriam to admit it, there were more important things at stake right now.
“Master, you need to escape! There's no time! Please, we cannot let this happen again!” she urged him, her hands made a forceful attempt to shove Illythis away from the mattress. Such impertinence would usually be rewarded with death, but Illythis would never harm his Bride, not even a former one. Still, she saw how he resisted her, not wanting to let go of Dimitri. “The Mark is already in him, so long as he is—!”
There was another explosion that rumbled through the walls, screaming ensued. She had run out of time. Even that seemed to alert the Master just enough to lessen His grip on the Bride, making Dimitri unconsciously moan in disapproval.
She kept on pushing him back to the well; it sounded like the last lines of defense guarding the basement wouldn't last for longer. “Please, go! I'll distract them! Love, please, you have to go now…!”
In her desperation He seemed to finally understand the gravity of the situation. He painlessly withdrew from Dimitri with a heavy wet schlop as He slowly dragged His amorphous body back into the dark well, but by then, Sister Myriam was already running to the door with a long dagger in hand.
“We can't forgive you for interfering”, she muttered, she stepped out to join her fellow acolytes, who could hardly hold out on their own. There were dead bodies and injured lying on the ground everywhere, most of them her kin. She let out one shuddering breath as the familiar-looking armored knight approached her with a sword in hand. “You damn monsters… must you always take everything from me?”
Her body moved fast, she knew that she wouldn't survive if she fought, but she'd rather go taking down as many as she could before letting them retrieve their King. They came too late anyway... yet, not late enough.
The knife she wielded managed to cut somebody's throat when she got close enough to one of the knights, but she was unable to stop the spears from raining down on her. The last thing she knew was that one of young ones screamed in terror. “SISTER!”
But it was fine. Suddenly the staggering pain cleared her mind, and she was fine. For an instant, she was free. It was fine. She could let go now.
She was fine now.
They found Dimitri.
He was inside a room with ritualistic glyphs painted all over the walls and floor, an open deep well and one smelly wet mattress. The King was stark naked and lying unconscious spread-legged, the nature of what he went through made itself painfully clear, rendering Dedue speechless; thankfully Felix yelled at Catherine's knights to keep out of the room, allowing Dedue to quickly take off a layer of this clothes to put some decency back on to their disgraced friend. Felix said nothing as shed his own coat as well, even if it was a tad small for Dimitri's size. Anything would do at this point.
Dedue didn't even have the words to describe his own emotions as he wrapped Dimitri in their clothes and pulled up his limp body in his arms… admittedly, he expected Dimitri to be lighter and paler, given the circumstances. His body did lose some muscle mass, but otherwise he was still healthy-looking. And he was still covered in a sheen of sweat and… Dedue didn't even want to know. The more he was finding out, the more he hated himself for taking so long.
His blood ran cold just thinking about it. They spent a little over a month and a half trying to find him and it was thanks to the intelligence of the Knights of Seiros that they knew what to look for and where. Dedue couldn't stop himself from thinking about what could've been done to Dimitri this whole time. It was the same kind of helplessness that nearly drove him mad throughout five years of war, five years in which Dimitri was out of reach and was then forever changed by his personal ordeals… even if not that much time transpired in comparison, Dedue wasn't ready to see what these harrowing weeks did to him either.
Felix couldn't even bear to his glance at him for too long, effectively keeping his distance from this horrible truth, he merely went out of his way to angrily announce that Dimitri has been found alive and safe. As to what extent… they still didn't know. Dedue was unable to detect any immediate indicators that Dimitri was injured beyond what was evident.
The knights swept the whole building in a matter of minutes, the yelling had quieted down by the time they got out of the building, several cultists wound up dead and a few others were forced to surrendered. Their leader, a woman, was struck down after lethally wounding one of the knights. Dedue noticed briefly that Felix's gaze lingered on the body of that woman when they walked past her corpse.
Gustave had been waiting outside of the building with a carriage and the backup, his expression upon seeing Dimitri in Dedue's arms was heart-wrenching. A mix of dread and relief pulled at his thin brows as he called out for His Majesty, but Dimitri didn't do so much as to move his eye lids and close them again as he was laid on the widest part of the carriage, physicians already inside to check for any wounds on their King.
This was as far as Dedue could possibly stand. He so badly wanted to remain at his friend's side, but he also didn't know if he could be useful, clearly someone of his bulk and size was getting in the way of the physicians, so he reluctantly had to step out of the carriage, not before seeing them peel the clothes they put on Dimitri in order to examine his body. He jerked his face away and walked away, trying to control the heavy nausea that spread throughout his stomach and chest.
He wished he could forget the smell of that room, the pungent and warm smell of sex, drugs and the faint scent of rot that came from that well. He didn't know the purpose of that mysterious-looking well, but the Knights of Seiros would probably know if he asked.
The search party was still ransacking the building, pulling out the dead bodies of the cultists and trying to control the prisoners, Catherine was trying to have the place cleaned up. Dedue saw Felix stand next to the filed corpses, looking down again at the woman who was supposedly the cult's fallen leader.
“Do you know her?” he dryly asked.
Felix grimaced, but didn't move away.
“… Her name was Myriam Lucia Fraldarius.”
Dedue blinked, staring again at the woman's corpse. She had a pale complexion and dark wavy hair, but other than that she looked nothing like Felix or the late Lord Rodrigue.
“She was my father's cousin,” he spat, giving Dedue a look that felt more like a warning. Every knight around them was too busy to hear them speak. “… She possessed a minor crest, so she had a little bit of weight in our family back then, but I barely knew her. I heard from the folk that she was kidnapped by bandits years ago, but by the time that she was rescued she already lost her mind. She disappeared around the same time that the Empire declared war to Fódlan, so everyone, including my Father, thought her dead. Insane to think that she's been here all along… I don't know all the details, but they used to say she couldn't readapt to her normal life, so maybe that's why she wound up here.”
That was a big dump of information. Beneath that cool exterior, Felix was clearly upset about the turns of events in this whole situation.
Dedue never got along with Felix that well, but if he was being trusted with this knowledge, then the least he could do was to show his sympathies. “I'm sorry.”
“Stop. It's not like I had any attachments to her. Besides, seems like she was the one running this hellhole and… she did that to the boar.” He frowned, looking back at the carriage. “I'd rather that you keep quiet about her though. I don't know what'd happen if everyone else found out that she's related to me.”
There were no benefits on disclosing that information to anyone, so he agreed to keep this between them. What was truly important now was that they took Dimitri back to Fhirdiad and put this whole business to rest as soon as possible.
Everyone wanted to see Dimitri, even Byleth, who came all the way from Garreg Mach to check on him. Dedue could sense everyone's disbelief upon seeing their King so sick, curled up in pain between his bedsheets and covered in sweat, muttering deliriously as if he was being threatened by their presence, like ghosts that plagued his head all over again. Soon it was decided that visits should be cut short, clearly a detriment to the King's current well-being, his mood constantly oscillating between stupor and panic if he was awake.
For the days that it took to travel back to Fhirdiad, Dimitri was completely out of it, unable to have any coherent conversations with anyone, and his body would often jerk violently at seemingly random intervals. The physicians said that it’d take some time for the opiates to clear from his body, so they told everyone that they needed to be ready to see him act this erratic for the time being.
It was hard to watch Dimitri like that.
Dedue haven't seen him this bad since the Battle at Gronder Field years ago. As Dimitri's close friend and former retainer, he felt responsible to remain by his side. Gustave would be there too, but his duty made him leave the chambers to control the situation outside. It was probably a blessing in disguise, knowing that Gustave saw Dimitri as a son; Dedue would rather spare the old man from witnessing the depths of Dimitri's affliction.
Sometimes Dimitri couldn't even make it out of his bed before he threw up or soiled himself, and several attendants needed to go and help him to get to the bathtub, given that he was still a very large man. But even with their best intentions it made things worse, Dimitri reacted with anguish when more than one person touched him at once. Soon they realized that he started to cry and shake when people tried to bathe him, and the change in his demeanor made the task infinitely more difficult; they couldn't just let him roll in his own filth, but it was clear that being touched for too long triggered very particular memories from his time as a captive, and much to the attendees’ abashment, Dimitri’s member would get visibly erect in spite of his clear distress.
Just thinking of what those cultists might've done to him made Dedue's fists clench tightly until he thought they’d bleed.
Ultimately Dedue offered himself to supervise Dimitri in the bathtub alone as to not overwhelm him with too many people at once, an idea that most found agreeable.
Alone he tried to encourage Dimitri to wash himself instead, and for that he wound up standing there an hour and half at the bathroom’s door, seeing the young King space out in the water, member still twitching hard.
Just when Dedue was about to pick the towels to help him out, he was shocked to observe that Dimitri began to furiously stroke his own member and shove his fingers inside his asshole, grunting miserably with a distraught expression in his face.
This proved to be far more than what Dedue was prepared to see in one single day. He tried to stop him, fearing that he'd end up hurting himself from using such reckless force, but Dimitri pleaded again and again that 'it wasn't enough', as if he’d die if he wasn’t allowed this; their eyes met briefly, and Dedue couldn’t bring himself to restrain him… merely touching a strained shoulder felt too invasive.
Dimitri forced himself to ejaculate several times, as if he didn't care that he was being watched, as if he was locked inside a feverish trance, his ragged breaths filled the room whereas Dedue decided to turn his back and helplessly wait for it to be over. He felt pathetic and dirty for not knowing how to act and just letting it happen.
In the end, after Dimitri was done, he finally calmed down, slumping tired inside the bathtub. That was reason enough for Dedue to breath out in relief and quickly pull him out of there, not as gracefully as he hoped he could, but adrenaline was still rushing through him as he tried his best to not stare or touch him for too long.
In extremely different circumstances, he would have liked a chance to be close like this, but now it was far gone, tainted, ruined by situations outside of his control; what could he even do to make it better? How could he even begin to help mending his wounds that reached so deep? All he could do was to stay and watch over him in silence.
His head was pulsing painful and heavy, like a restless heart, and that’s all he felt for days. It hurt. Everything hurt and it was like his body was deprived of something as essential as air or water, it felt like he was dying slowly from the lack of whatever it was, leaving him empty, gaping.
It took days before his mind started to clear and he recovered a faint awareness of his surroundings and his own bodily autonomy.
The first thing he realized was that his loins burned with that sickening itch and his hands moved on their own to alleviate that heat since nobody else would. He didn’t know how many times he managed to bring himself to climax as he ignored the voices’ pleas, but he eventually gave out to physical exhaustion, knowing that on his own he’d never be able to fully soothe that terrible heat eating at him. Ultimately he allowed himself to be picked up again from the bathtub.
The second thing that Dimitri realized was that he was no longer in the dark windowless rooms, but rather in his old personal quarters at Fhirdiad’s castle. He was put in a bed, not a mat with a bunch of cushions, but a real bed with sheets and a pair of pillows. His heart started to beat nervously as his only eye started to drink in all these details, far too real, too accurate to be merely part of another dream.
And the person who carried him to his bed, the person wasn’t wearing any white clothes… Dimitri’s hand were shaking as he whimpered, trying to understand how could he even touch Dedue’s face. His blood froze momentarily. Was he going to be like El too now?
Dedue looked at him, and his hands were warm, steady.
“Your Majesty. It's me...” he murmured, as if trying to convince him that his face wouldn’t disappear in the turmoil of ghosts as he always did.
“No... no, no, no. Not you too, Dedue. P-please not you…” he sobbed, trying to conceal his tearful face in fear. But Dedue’s hands were still, never trying to touch him anywhere beyond his arms. “W-when will this dream end?”
“You’re not dreaming. I’m not a ghost, Dimitri.” he replied, holding such a pained expression, so much regret and sympathy that could only be his. Dedue, this Dedue wouldn’t hurt him. “I'm so sorry, it took us far too long to get you… But I promise that you're safe now.”
As the seconds went by, the knot in Dimitri’s throat lessened, his thoughts were slowly making sense of what was going on. Was it really not a dream? Everything still hurt, his stomach felt like an open wound, the fever crawled beneath his skin like an army of ants, but at least now he knew exactly where he was.
It wasn’t a dream.
“… I'm… safe…” he breathed before letting his body succumb to the exhaustion, his own fingers wrapping around Dedue’s hand, as if holding on to them would keep him anchored in this place.
He needed so desperately to believe that he’d stay here when his eye opened again.
“… It's odd. For the weeks that he was captive, he was well-fed, kept clean and without any significant injuries. This is not how you normally keep a prisoner... But I'm so worried about the damage done to his system. I've seen people who struggle with withdrawal from toxic substances, and he is showing many of the same symptoms. He's going to feel sick like this for a while longer and we can accelerate the clearing process with magic, however… I'm not sure how well his mind is. Whatever they've done to him… it… I don’t know how he’s handling it.”
They thought that he was fast asleep after the check-up, but he could still hear them talk in their lowest voice, they softly echoed in the lonely chamber.
Mercedes was brought to look at him, not because she was the most renowned physician out there (she certainly had plenty of experience as a practitioner because of the war), but because she was close friends with Dimitri and she was someone they thought he could trust. She had mended many of his wounds before and was used to touching his body, so it was a reasonable decision to choose Mercedes. Dimitri voiced no complaints, but in his mind he didn’t think it’d make any difference, he still flinched when they touched him.
“Better not press him on the subject, I don't think he's ready to talk.”
Even though he was quickly regaining strength to walk and talk, he felt so far from well. Regardless of his own setbacks, Dimitri knew that he needed to go back to his normal self as fast as he could; he left his kingdom without a King for long enough. He tried to attend a meeting early on, but it backfired spectacularly as he panicked and ran back to his quarters upon sighting the first few members of his council arrive.
Dimitri soon realized that he couldn’t stand to be among people. One was fine. Two were just acceptable. Three made him nervous. Four… his body jerked and his mouth wouldn’t work properly. More than five and he started to look for a way out. This would happen specially in closed quarters, where the air quickly grew stagnant. He hated to make people who wanted to help him upset, but he had little control on his own reactions.
Of course, seeing his former professor Byleth again warmed his heart, but to hear that they had to work outside of the monastery to help to stabilize Faerghus through his absence only made Dimitri feel inadequate. It meant the world that Byleth and all his other friends worked tirelessly to keep chaos from ensuing while they searched for him, but it only proved to him how undeserving he was of their love and care... If everyone else ever found out what he’s been through…
There were more than a handful of who knew beyond a surface level. The physicians and caretakers assigned to him, Dedue, Gustave, Catherine, Felix and now Mercedes… he haven’t decided if Byleth knew yet. It was too many people. They knew. Dimitri himself struggled even now to understand just what he’s been through. He couldn’t remember most of it, but the parts that he did were enough to make him weak in the stomach and want to throw up.
And he couldn’t stop thinking about Dedue, the vague memories of the first night he spent back in his quarters were becoming clearer, the disbelief in his piercing blue eyes, the shame filling his face as the hot throb between his legs grew angrier.
That itch never went away. He would get hard out of the blue and he would try to ignore it until it stopped. It was painful at best, but even if he wanted to relieve himself, he couldn’t do it privately since there was always someone (namely Dedue) watching over him. Dimitri didn’t want to see this as a nuisance, he understood why they couldn’t let him have complete privacy yet, but he couldn’t stop feeling trapped.
It was suffocating.
Even though they were still speaking, Dimitri couldn’t take it anymore and decided to get up from bed, clumsily putting back on the new eyepatch he’s been given, he donned a loose cotton blouse and trousers.
Mercedes started a little and Dedue stared at him with that well-known worry.
“Dimitri, take it easy, you don’t need to rush out…” she pleaded gently, her hands were raised but she avoided to touch him unnecessarily.
He swallowed and breathed out, trying to restrain his desperation. “I'm fine... I only, uh… I needed to get back on track, once I’m settled then everything will be as it should.” Yes, he needed to think ahead. If he could only be allowed to focus on his work again, then he would be able to move on. Dimitri bowed his head apologetically to his friend. “… Thank you for seeing me, Mercedes.”
Mercedes merely shook her head softly. “Please, thank me after you're well rested.” As expected, his words did nothing to ease the concerned crease of her brows. The gentle cleric turned to the tall dark man. “Dedue, could you talk him into taking a few weeks off until he's all better?”
“I don't need to... I don't...” Before he could finish, he winced lightly as a pang of pain broke through his skull, which alerted both Dedue and Mercedes. “Sorry, it's my head…” For once, he backed onto his bed and sat there to wait for the ache to become more bearable.
He hated the headaches, they brought back flashes of the things that happened in the past month, things that he didn’t want to see again. He hated them so much it made his hands tremble.
“Can you tell me how you feel?” Mercedes asked
“They… put things inside my body, inside my head. But it's all so heavy now… throbbing all the time. I feel like my limbs will begin falling apart.” His voice cracked, having lost the filter between his brain and his mouth. It was far too late to reformulate his words to make his friends worry less. But he had no other way to describe it. “I… try to move on, but it’s still right here, thrumming beneath my skin, bending my knees when I want to walk forward. It’s like everything is spinning.”
“Dimitri… you're straining your body by forcing yourself to work too soon. Trust me, you'll feel better after taking some rest and let your body rid of whatever toxic substances that are still in your system. It won't do anyone any good if you hinder your recovery by being so stubborn.”
This was as much as he’s ever been able to say on the matter of his captivity with anyone until now. He felt a little better after saying it, but it didn’t undo the feeling of nausea creeping throughout his stomach and chest. Besides, it was hard to argue against a very worried Mercedes and Dedue as a heavy moral support.
“Sorry, Mercedes. I… I'll heed your advice.”
And after she left, he told Dedue that he wanted to take a walk outside before dawn. He was served dinner soon after, but he barely managed to eat more than a few spoonfuls of soup, knowing that it was inevitable that he’d end up throwing up some time before dawn. And threw up he did. They would probably have to make the soup easier for his stomach next time, as it appeared that all he could tolerate was water or tea.
Throughout it all, his friend accompanied him. Dimitri felt terrible knowing that Dedue probably haven’t had much rest because of him. He was good at masking his exhaustion, but he could tell how much it weighed on him this self-imposed duty to look after him.
He approached his friend as they headed back to his quarters. “Dedue... I want to apologize for what happened the other night.” He knew the one, he could see it in the way he lightly frowned. “I was... I thought...! I'm sorry you had to witness me being such a… a…” 'Whore.' the voices began snickering. He shook his head, biting his lower lip. “That was shameful...”
“That's enough. You've been through enough already.” Dedue replied.
Those words were kind, so much like Dedue, and he wanted to feel good hearing those words… yet they did nothing to remove that burden. Their mutual silence left Dimitri at the mercy of the memories of wet skin and sweet murmurs that subdued him, terrible memories that he couldn’t repress no matter how much he wanted.
Before he realized it, his only eye was clouded with tears, even though he attempted to keep his own voice composed. “There was always at least a dozen of them inside that room all the time, always… always… Inside that room there was no room for me.” He stopped and took a shuddering breath, rapidly wiping the wetness from his face with his fingers.
He felt like if he spoke any more, he’d risk losing his mind to the obscene details, he’d risk losing his friend if he let him know the depths of the depravity to which he was forced upon. The voices were warning enough.
“Dedue, please, I don't want anyone to stay in my chambers when I sleep… I know everyone is worried, b-but I want to be alone. I need to be alone.”
Dimitri knew that he had the authority to make people leave him alone if he commanded it, but he also knew that his mental health history made him subject to disobedience with his best interest in mind. That was the reason why he was telling Dedue this.
The taller man sighed, eyebrows still knit with concern. “You will need some time to rebuild the boundaries that were taken from you. While you heal, I'll try to make sure that those boundaries are respected.”
Dimitri nodded, starting to feel the heaviness of fatigue taking over. “… Heal.” he repeated.
“… I'll try explain it to Gustave. If you find it agreeable, I'll remain right outside your room, but I shall not disturb you. If something—anything—should come up, you can yell, kick, do whatever so I will hear you. Does that sound fine to you?”
“Yes, yes, that'd… be fine.”
He didn’t know why, but he was suddenly feeling so tired. Mercedes did say that he needed to rest after all. Between the onslaught of unwanted memories and the emotionally draining talk with his friends, Dimitri would find it hard to remain awake. At least like that he wouldn’t even have to worry about the never-ending heat that still boiled within his guts.
It was weird to be able to fall asleep with clothes on and with limbs unrestrained, he’d usually not think much of the fact, but after being forced for weeks to sleep without such commodities, he couldn’t decide how to feel about them. He loathed to think about how he grew used to the oiled invasive hands instead of the soft cotton sheets. At least the voices weren’t as bad when he was all alone, their words sparse and easier to ignore.
He managed to nap for a short while before the fire in his loins was reignited and he heaved upon realizing that there was a tent standing over his crotch demanding his attention. It mortified him to not be able to control himself, but it seemed like this would keep happening until he fully recovered from the withdrawal.
Mindlessly, his hand undid his trousers’ buttons and grabbed his erection, idly stroking. He was embarrassed upon realizing how badly he wanted to do this as he hummed when the waves of pleasure arose through his own motions. Would this be enough though? He needed to make it so.
Even though he wanted to do this quietly, his breathing hitched as the sensitivity heightened as precum slickened the friction between his fingers and his penis. He didn’t want it to feel this good, didn’t want to think about how this had been done to him again and again against his will, but all his body wanted was some form of relief. Then, he’d be able to sleep.
But thoughts ran rampant when he was jerking himself, and as much as he wanted to find pleasant thoughts to drive him, it always returned to the depraved instances in which he had no control. He could recall, of all things, how El’s ghost had touched him with bloodied warm hands and ravished him countless times.
That’s when Dimitri stopped touching himself, gasping in disgust. His hands were shaking so much, but the ache of his arousal was thriving, so much so that he wished he could simply rip it off and be done with it already.
When he opened his eye he found her again, her bright lavender eyes staring down at him as if her body was pinned against his ceiling, her crimson dress sprawled around her like a big stain that expanded behind her. It was leaking, little drops have fallen to hit his forehead. For blood it felt heavy, too viscous. Dimitri was paralyzed, not out of fear, but he found himself unable to make his body obey. He laid there wide-eyed and breathing heavily, realizing that he couldn’t use his voice to either. Her mouth was open, but he couldn’t hear the words she’d use to taunt him tonight, he could only feel the droplets rain upon him, slow and dense.
He closed his eye once more, attempting to focus his mind somewhere else, repel the idea that Edelgard was somehow here back to haunt him. When he inhaled, he noted that the scent didn’t resemble blood. No. It was something else entirely, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Was it… fish…?
There was a wet noise coming from the ceiling. When he opened his eye again, he felt an unfathomable terror take hold of his heart as small beady eyes peered into him among a tangled mess of living, pulsing, grey vines.
He tried to scream, but as soon as his mouth opened, a large appendage plunged rapidly between his jaws, sinking its supple but firm length easily past Dimitri’s palate. Only muffled whimpers could get past that thing, and they were not enough to alert anyone standing outside his chamber’s doors.
The voices screamed too, but as soon as they started they all were suppressed under the velvety allure of a sweet tune nesting itself deep in his ears. Was it trying to tell him something? He didn’t care, it felt wrong. Dimitri wanted to shake it off, wanted so badly to make it stop getting inside his head, but the most that he could do was the whine through the long appendage inserting itself in his mouth.
The tentacle smoothly slid down his gullet, thrusting gently in and out as its strange fleshy texture rubbed against his tongue and coated itself with Dimitri’s saliva. A dozen panicked thoughts scrambled through his brain at once. His body was unable to move, and the feeling of such a big thing violating his mouth solidified his helplessness, it only kept wiggling inside, whatever substance coated that skin was dulling the pain of the strain and yet simultaneously making his nerves dance as if they were being tickled with nails.
Dimitri knew this sensation. He had known this overwhelming prickling that made his loins quiver with perverse anticipation. Anticipation for what? He couldn’t recall…
Despite his paralysis, more of those tentacles ended up coiling around his wrists and tentatively curling against his chest, slipping under his clothes, the unseen little spikes of their skin immediately injecting poison into the afflicted Dimitri. His back arched and limbs would spasm as more of the main tentacle dived into his esophagus, slowly reaching down to the pit of his stomach. It felt scalding hot, as if he’s been fed a living eel. His thoughts were swimming as more of those murmurs reached him; he still couldn’t comprehend them, he only knew that they were making him feel funny in the head.
The careful but firm way it thrusted inside Dimitri’s throat managed to create such obscene sounds as he could barely manage to swallow. He couldn’t breathe when it blocked his throat, so it would sometimes retreat almost all the way and encourage him to breathe, which he mindlessly did. The lack of oxygen somehow heightened the effectiveness of the poison and the murmurs. His arousal grew too, his erection having been pulsing with need throughout the length of the ordeal.
Once the creature made sure Dimitri had breathed enough, it coerced its tendril through his mouth all the way into his stomach in one incredibly smooth motion, ignoring his gag reflex. Simultaneously the other tentacles that had fallen on his chest started fondling and probing his nipples with their strangely pointy tips, the sensation that they caused on his sensitive nubs was like they were being licked with fire. The tentacles kept on pulling and pressing at his nipples, so insistent and vicious, Dimitri felt like they'd be ripped open.
On top of that, he could sense how the one inside of him just kept going, finding an opening beyond his stomach as it delved deeper. Dimitri’s only eye rolled back, feeling completely overwhelmed with the new invasive sensations. His mind was a mush, he couldn't stop convulsing as the impossibly long tentacle raped the entirety of him. It was as if it intended to traverse him until his intestines ended. At this point, his hips were up in the air rocking at nothing as his member leaked abundant precum.
Then, at some point, the end of the long main tentacle brushed against something deep inside Dimitri that made his whole frame to jolt violently as he yielded a muffled cry, the assault on his poor nerves was too much for him and he ended up coming immediately after, each throbbing spurt after the other spilling all over his stomach, running his clothes and sheets. Whatever it was that it touched, the tentacle tackled it decidedly for what felt like long minutes, making Dimitri’s legs shiver uncontrollably as the high of his orgasm was exploited into shorter and increasingly more intense waves of pleasure until he would collapse from the overstimulation.
After that, the creature seemed satisfied.
He didn’t know how long it took, but the long appendage retired from the thoroughly violated body, leaving a slimy trail of slobber seeping down Dimitri’s lower lip as he was left with a tired glassy look in his eye. The tentacles on his nipples retreated too, leaving the moist nubs sore and swollen from abuse. Unbeknownst to him, one of those tentacles came down to ‘lick’ the nasty residues clean, remove the evidence of its work.
Quietly his breathing returned to normal, but his mind was still feverish and dull, having no way to process what just happened to him. Before the creature of his nightmares disappeared, more of its soft murmurs filled his brain, spelling something reassuring to make sure he’d be allowed a good plentiful sleep.
Dimitri would remember nothing of it for the time being.
Can you imagine my embarrassment upon finding out that I was writing Gustave's name wrong this whole time?
Also, I'll be busy working on a different project for the next few weeks, so I'll be taking a little break from writing. The update might come by the end of the year if not until january. Happy holidays!
I finished this chapter way sooner than I thought. Christmas' Eve boredom at blame.
There's no smut until like the second half of this chapter. The hard part of writing porn with plot is that you have to find a way to justify the situation for the smut to happen. Sorry for those who came here only for the smut.
Warnings: Mental Health Talk, Dimitri makes Several Mistakes, Tentacle Sex, Mind Fuck, Nipple Play, Cum Excess, Light Inflation, Urethral Play... you know, The Usual.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“Well, it seems like you lost some color in your face. That’s not good, and you still look dreadfully tired. When did you last eat?”
“… Yesterday evening” he responded, trying his best to not sway as he sat in front of Mercedes, who was given a small room to temporarily stay in the castle while she would check on him. It was a comforting place, even if a little bare, the small touches of Mercedes’ presence tinted the room with a rosy welcoming air. “Sorry, it’s… it’s hard to keep my meals in…”
“Dimitri, it’s fine. Your body is still recovering. We just need to find a diet that is easy for your stomach to handle, alright? And you still need more sleep.”
His mouth grimaced a little, having an unpleasant feeling of inadequacy bubble within when faced with how little he’s improved over the past few days. He still struggled to have more than just vegetable soup without throwing up.
“I’ve been sleeping. A lot more than usual, actually. I pass out cold as soon as I hit the pillow…” But as he said it, Dimitri felt a strange weight inside his stomach. “However, I hardly feel rested after I wake. Usually, training helps me to drive the fatigue away… but my mind drifts too much to let me hold a weapon properly.”
“This might be partly tied to your mood, Dimitri. I know it must be hard for you, but the only thing you can do is give take your time and don’t hesitate to ask for help. You know you do better when you let yourself rely on your friends.” she said, smiling patiently. “And it is a good idea that you train in your free time, even if you’re physically weak. So long as you don’t push yourself, exercising your body might be the best you can do right now.”
“That’s what I thought… but I’ve been feeling a strange pressure in my chest since the other day” he said, moving his hand over his heart. In truth, this was the main reason why he wanted to see Mercedes today. It was like a growing soreness that made his nerves spike painfully with the lightest brush; today was a tough trial for him to find clothes that wouldn’t make his skin feel chafed from the friction.
“Can you show me?” she asked with inquiring eyes. Even though he was still extremely uncomfortable with showing too much skin, it was only him and Mercedes in this room and she was one of the most upright persons that he knew… so he carefully undid the buttons of his shirt and opened up to let her see his chest. “Tell me where you feel the pressure, yes?”
Involuntarily he held his breath as her fingertips touched his sternum, not the right place. He shook his head quickly and Mercedes moved her hand to his left pectoral.
It was almost pathetic how much his body reacted as soon as her fingers pressed beneath his left nipple, making him flinch almost violently, making Mercedes remove her hand immediately. Dimitri was honestly taken aback with how he underestimated his skin’s sensitivity; he did suspect that his nipples were very tender as a result of the unknown pressure, but he didn’t anticipate it to be this bad.
“I’m so sorry, did that hurt?”
His knees trembled lightly but he steeled himself to his best ability, praying to the Goddess that his shirt’s length would obscure his groin and Mercedes wouldn’t notice.
“Ah… n-no, it was more like a… uh, it feels like my skin is raw…” he muttered, fidgeting as he fought the impulse to suddenly pull his shirt closed and walk away.
“Well, it’s weird, it doesn’t look swollen anywhere… Difficulty breathing?” He merely shook his head, but still braced himself for when her hand touched his forehead. “You’re a little feverish. Your muscles might be aching as a result of it. I can give you a recipe to help you with the pain, but you still need plenty of rest. Also… you should take a nice lukewarm bath before going to sleep.”
Dimitri only nodded in silence, rapidly closing his shirt, but the sudden brush of the fabric against his sensitized skin made him shudder. He couldn’t understand why it was beginning to hurt like this. It was like an invisible heaviness hanging from his teats, but for some reason he wouldn’t dare telling Mercedes any of this because he couldn’t even begin to explain it to himself. The idea of bathing wasn’t pleasant either, even if it was a necessity, he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it anymore.
“You must forgive me… I know that you need to leave within a month and I’d hate to keep you.”
“It’s true that my duty is elsewhere but I’ll never turn my help from an old friend…” she said, her features softened, trying to not force herself to smile too much. Her concern was always true. “Say, would you like to come see me tomorrow? I’ll be helping out with the services all day at the castle’s chapel, if you want to join me.”
The thought warmed his heart; back in their academy days they prayed together a few times and she never scolded him for staying up late in the cathedral. Usually Dimitri would be able to smile to such offer, but for some reason he couldn’t quite make his mouth do that. He wanted to be able to stand before the Goddess again and let her light heal him…
… But was he still deserving of her love after all?
“So, you haven’t seen him yet?”
Felix’s attention was caught by the harmonious voice of Annette, she must’ve found him after asking around for him, otherwise she wouldn’t have tried to look for him in the castle’s west wing where he’s been practically living in the past few days. If he knew that the nobility records in the library were left in such a non-sensical disarray for years, he would’ve at least brought someone to help him out. He recalled why he usually left this sort of desk job to others, but unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to let anyone else search for the documents he wanted.
However, Annette’s question irked him. It was weird that Annette would find a way to annoy him, given that she was one of the few people on the face of earth that didn’t drive him up a wall. Perhaps it was the fact that he’s been sleeping on dust and old paper, or maybe it was that she was clearly referring to Dimitri; it was decidedly both things at once.
“And why should I?” he grumbled, moving a heavy pile of books off the desk where he’s been stuck since this morning.
“I thought that you stayed here for that” she hummed; the redhead made an excellent job at ignoring his evident chagrin.
“I came here to retrieve some things that belong to me… And you? Why are you here?”
Annette huffed. “I live in Fhirdiad, silly. Besides, I’ve been worried that my father will overwork himself again, so I need to come here and force him to take breaks. He’s been dedicating so much of his time to his Majesty and the management of the castle’s staff that I’m afraid that he’s going to collapse again...”
She was right for feeling concerned about her old man; just during the horrible weeks they spent looking for Dimitri, Gustave fainted from fatigue a handful of times. Felix did lose sleep during that time too, but he was well-aware that endangering his own health would only become an unnecessary burden for the searching parties. One would think that the old knight should’ve decided to take it easy since they saved the King, but from Annette’s account, it would seem like that wasn’t the case.
Felix, on the other hand… he just wanted to keep the distance from the events for as long as it took for Dimitri to get his act back together. Or at least that’s what Felix wanted to keep telling himself as he rummaged through a ruined archival in search for anything pertaining the Church of Illythis. A lot of strange things have been brought to Fhirdiad’s castle during Cornelia’s corrupt reign, and many of the books that she stuffed in the library would have never been allowed to exist inside Garreg Mach’s monastery. However, among all the unholy things Felix found in the dark corners of the library, he haven’t found anything yet pertaining that pesky obscure cult. And he pestered Catherine about the subject several times, but she was aggressively adamant about telling him anything more. The haunted look in her eyes didn’t help.
He recalled hearing the name ‘Illythis’ for the first time when his father confronted his aunt days before he parted to enroll at Garreg Mach as a student. He recalled a mad woman mourning ‘children’ she never had and refused to acknowledge her own husband who standing right next to her. He recalled how she said that this ‘Illythis’ was calling out in need for her. By that time, Felix just assumed that the woman had completely lost her mind after being a prisoner to cultists for nearly a year, and though her loved ones tried to help her heal, her erratic behavior slowly ended up turning everyone who cared away. Once war broke out, she simply vanished from their lives, only to be remembered as the broken woman she became instead of whoever she was before that…
Thinking of her made him think of Dimitri.
The young king only seemed to jump from one traumatic event after the other and Felix knew first-hand how bad he could get time and time again. Felix was useless when it came to offering emotional support to his childhood friend, others have proven to be infinitely better at that task than him and he accepted that. Even so, it didn’t stop him from feeling frustrated at how little he was able to do when they had to take Dimitri back to Fhirdiad, burdened with the knowledge of the nefarious things that those cultists must’ve done. Of course, they had told those involved in Dimitri’s search that he’s been kept a prisoner, but only him and another few actually knew that their king, their ‘Savior King’, as the people dubbed Dimitri after his ascension to the throne, had been kept as a sex slave by cultists.
Nobody needed that mental image in their heads. Felix wished he didn’t have it, and right now, someone like Annette didn’t need it, that’s why he refused to tell her more about Dimitri’s rescue. No doubt that her father kept quiet about the details too.
“—Also, I’d like to say ‘hello’ to His Majesty once he’s feeling good enough for visitors. But Mercedes told me that it’s still going to take some time … Felix?” His sight drifted to the window, as he noticed the striking black attire of someone walking through the empty gardens of the castle. Annette couldn’t help but to peer through the window too, curious to see what Felix was seeing. “Oh. Speaking of the devil. He seems to be heading to the memorial grounds…”
That was Dimitri, no doubt. But something about how he walked alone among the dried-up hedge bushes awoke a feeling of unease. Why wasn’t Dedue or Gustave with him?
“Is he feeling better today?” Annette mused as their eyes followed the king’s shape until he disappeared into the garden.
Felix wanted to say that it was only his own fault for dwelling in negative thoughts for too long, but he couldn’t get rid of this incertitude.
It was only a matter of time before Dedue would give in to the exhaustion, so Dimitri wasn’t surprised that when he finished his soup Dedue was dozing off on his chair. Just like Gustave, the poor man had dedicated every waking moment watching over him. He couldn’t help feeling bad for putting his retainer and friend through this, but it was impossible to convince them that he didn’t need company when he was feeling so weak and pathetic; returning from his visit from Mercedes’ quarters overwhelmed didn’t help his case either. At least now Dedue would take the rest of the afternoon off, snoring lightly with his cheek resting upon his shoulder.
Dimitri picked himself up from bed, taking a very light cape from his dresser and quietly left his chambers. If he still intended to go to the service tomorrow, Dimitri wanted to go to visit his family first, while there was still daylight on the horizon. Perhaps doing that would help take his mind off the awful sensitivity in his body.
After ending the war, he had the habit of coming to the necropolis often, which on itself wasn’t supposed to be strange since Cornelia’s despotic reign vandalized the crypts of his ancestors and he had to personally see that the mausoleums were properly renovated. The new buildings were modest compared to their former glory, but the white stone and careful carvings still exuded the somber regal air expected for the resting place for the Blaiddyd bloodline. Dimitri used to think that repairing the crypts would give their spirits the peace they deserved, and for a time, it did.
At least for most of them.
He was very secretive about his request to the architect to create additional space for his family’s crypt, since he brought a very particular funerary urn from Enbarr. As far as he was concerned, the world knew that former emperor Edelgard’s remains were cremated and spread at the winds of the city of her birth.
Even before being held captive by that cult, Dimitri began to see her ghost a few months passed after her death. Just a striking red shape that appeared at the corner of his eye, something that he would see in one moment but would be gone at the next. His mind acknowledged that it was her, but he managed to keep her at bay for a while… that is until a particularly difficult week of work fell upon him and he started to hear the voices ceaselessly yammering, blurred faces becoming clearer, some old and some new… She showed up then and there, staring at him among the many dead faces, lives that he claimed during the war, but she wouldn’t speak to him. It never went further than that. Edelgard was simply there to silently remind him of that one selfish crime, of his reluctance to let go of the one thing that still reminded him of that innocent love, the one which was corrupted into a brutal conflict between them. Dimitri knew that he should’ve let her rest where her own family was, in the castle where she took her last stand to fight for her own beliefs… it should’ve been the least he could’ve done for her.
But he stole her. He took what remained of her and hid her urn where he could always guard her. He deprived her of her life, and now he was depriving her of her final resting place.
She was right. He dragged the dead everywhere.
Dimitri stood inside the mausoleum in silence, contemplating the corner where he placed her urn, right beside the urn that supposedly held the ashes of their mother Patricia and his father Lambert. The flowers that he left there over two months ago were all dried up. He explicitly told servants to leave the cleaning of the mausoleum to him alone.
He couldn’t see their vase’s engravings very well, his eyesight got blurry with tears again. The voices in the back of his head berated him as his hands crumpled the dead flowers. He tried to ignore their vicious noise as he quickly dusted off their altar and sloppily began to sweep the floor with the broom he always left there.
He didn’t even get to finish. His head was pounding painfully. He dropped the broom, finding his arms shaking as a terrible pang ran through his chest and down to his loins. The whispers continued to revolve around his head and he grunted, forcing his body to move and walk outside of the mausoleum.
“…I’m sorry, El. I know I deserve it, I know! I… I’m sorry!” He could feel it, that she was standing right behind him now, watching him with wrath burning so hot it was simmering his skin in fever.
‘No, you’re not.’ she coldly replied, an echo that thrummed within his skull. He feared staying still one moment, feared that she would touch him, fearing that she would pull him back and claim him once more. ‘If you were sorry, you’d have stopped putting my face over those who got to punish you so delightfully. You want me here with you more than you don’t. You deserve what’s coming to you.’
“I will atone, I swear! Just… p-please, just leave me alone!” he implored, gasping as he dragged his feet to the left corner of the mausoleum and supported his back against its walls, but he was so distressed and disoriented that he forgot that turning left led to the rest of the necropolis, not the way out.
The whispers increased in size and the friction of the clothes against his own skin was becoming unbearable, he couldn’t help but to gasp as his knees gave out and felt his body fall to the ground, the grass softening the impact. He remained there heaving and writhing as the heat pulsed angrily through his veins, very loudly begging him to pay attention to the ineluctable erection inside his trousers.
He gritted his teeth, furious and distraught with his inability to take control of his own body, even though he couldn’t hear her voice anymore among the chaotic turmoil of whispers, he could still sense her. But he couldn’t help to notice that something was off about the voices as he tried to collect himself again.
His face brushed against the gentle bristles of the grass from his chin to his forehead until he came through the slow realization that his body was being dragged across the surface.
Something strong had coiled itself around his knee joint and Dimitri could feel the wetness seep through the fabric of his trousers, causing him to get goose bumps as remembrance started to kick in; instinctively his fingers dug into the ground, grabbing on the grass roots.
He had felt this before. He knew these wicked whispers, he knew the rotten fishy smell, he knew this strength and he knew what this thing wanted to do to him.
He had tried so hard to forget, more out of self-preservation than anything, and now his mind was splitting between the primal desire of wanting this thing—this creature—to quickly alleviate his arousal, and then there was his remaining sanity, screaming at him to fight his way out of this place at once.
“D-don’t…! Don’t touch me…!” Not quite a demand, it was more like a plea. But more of those long boneless limbs seized Dimitri’s legs and his breath hitched as he felt that firm wet touch slide between his thighs, causing his heart to drop to his stomach and cold sweat to trail down his back. “Please don’t…!”
It could understand the tongue of men, but Dimitri should’ve realized that his words were meaningless to this creature. It cared not for his consent, it just wanted to take and take and take. Even so, he wouldn’t dare to turn his face towards that creature, fearing that seeing its form would drive him into madness as there were no drugs or preparation rituals to filter the shock of being in the presence of such creature.
Were he in better shape, both mentally and physically, he’d probably be able to resist its advances, but all that Dimitri could do was to writhe weakly and whine as more of those tentacles took hold of his wrists and pulled them from behind, coated in that slime that soaked through his clothes and made his skin crawl. Once it made direct contact with his skin, Dimitri couldn’t help but to sob as poisonous jolts bit his nerves and he could nearly feel himself on the verge of coming.
The strength of that creature allowed it to pick him from the ground, and more of its appendages snared around his arms and legs, even something as thick as his thigh began surrounding his waist and crawling up his chest and neck like a huge snake. Dimitri felt like it would easily break his body if it so desired, for once he felt like prey. Yet, his cock was so hard he could barely stand it, as if his veins would soon implode.
The huge tentacle pulled Dimitri up until he was on a kneeling position, those that coiled around his legs started to slip beneath his trousers’ waistband and he flinched as he felt the slippery yet rugged exterior of that limb caressing his balls and the delicate skin between his cheeks. He yelped, feeling his nerves turn up like fire, hopelessness crushing him as more of those tendrils tangled over his body and constricted him until he could barely move. The way it rubbed all over his already high-strung body was also soaking his clothes, making it easy to slide under the fabric.
The direct brush against his sore nipples made him moan in despair, panic rising to his head as the voices laughed at his reaction. With all his remaining strength Dimitri planted his right heel against the ground in a final effort to get away, but he was only delaying the inevitable. He wanted to yell louder, ask for help, but… was that what he really wanted? Did he want anyone to see him in this aroused state, at the mercy of a non-human being that very clearly wanted to fuck him? The voices very eagerly calling him ‘whore’ already, and it was impossible to argue against them in this situation.
Dimitri’s half-lidded eye looked at the ground in front of him, realizing that he was being watched... He could see the tail of the familiar-looking red dress, the sharp ends of those black armor-clad boots. It should come as no-surprise that El was still here to bask in his misery; only fitting that she’d be glad to see him disgraced next to the resting place he chose for her. He could feel the tentacle around his neck slowly pull him back as he felt something like warm breath blow behind his head and the incomprehensible song that rumbled through his ears, making his mind to nearly teeter into complete submission.
In the single moment when Dimitri blinked, the lush red dress was replaced by a simple white one, an entirely different shape of an entirely different woman.
‘You shouldn’t be afraid.’ And he immediately recognized the soft tune of the Sister’s voice and that’s when his shoulders began to tremble. He was told that the woman died when they rescued him… was her ghost to join the others as well? ‘He found you again, right when you needed Him the most! Isn’t He wonderful, Dimitri?’
“No… no, no, no, no, no…” he whimpered, shaking his head in disbelief. The long appendage brushing his shaft probed experimentally against his twitchy asshole and he cried out when he felt that he spilled himself a little. He was so close to giving in, so close to throwing away his sanity to beg for it to utterly ravish his body. He hated himself for even sparing the thought to that gratification. “Plea…se, don’t make me…!”
Her wide eyes, those awful big eyes with a big smile, he wanted to look away, but if he did then he’d have to look at the monster violating his body. ‘Isn’t this ultimately what you too desire? To be engulfed by his love?’
“You’re wrong, you’re wrong, I’m not yours! I don’t want… ah…!” he gasped, his erection pulsed too painfully as he felt the prickling sensation unleash itself upon his nipples, sensitive beyond what he could withstand. The inhuman limbs were not even focused on them, but merely being rubbed against the buttery skin was enough to make him squirm. The large tentacle was beginning to hold his neck tighter, trying to make sure he’d stop moving too aggressively.
‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of. He is going to give you all the love that you wanted, all the love that was always yours.’
It shouldn’t be hard to tell what she was saying, but there were so many voices everywhere at the same time that he almost lost her amongst them, a cruel cacophony of distorted voices fluttering around his head while his aching body was helplessly fondled and poked everywhere. They taunted him, ignored his pain... they just never stopped.
“Go away, gh- go…!” he whined, finding it hard to speak with so much spit gushing from his lips, feeling heady from having his breathing limited. Just when he thought his head would split in two from the noise, Dimitri felt something wet press against his ear.
And just like that, the noise began to slow down, quieting until it vanished. The sudden silence would have fooled him that he went deaf if not for the fact that he could still hear his own pathetic moans and the wet slithering sound of those tendrils.
“W…hy?” he stuttered, confused. Now that everything stilled for a second, he could actually hear what the creature was whispering to him, so quietly, so sweetly. Its promises felt like balm against his troubled mind, it was making his already damaged fighting spirit dwindle more and more. “… You can make them go away? C-can you really do that?” Dimitri mewled, not realizing how much his face was twitching. It was as if a gentle warmth curled up inside his head, making his thoughts fuzzier. The creature’s murmurs, as if sung directly into his ear, beguiled him, promised him that he’d feel better… and Dimitri desperately wanted to believe that.
His hips weakly rocked against the constraints, having had his member neglected for far too long, along with the unbearable ache that lived within his belly… The sudden absence of reservations made his body open itself more to the monster’s influence.
When he felt both his nipples being pinched by hard pincer-like tendrils, the pleasant sting distracted him from the dull head of the tentacle slowly nudging itself to his now relaxed entrance. The tension of his legs gave in, and they were immediately pulled apart as his trousers were comfortably rolled down below his knees.
A part of himself was indescribably ashamed, but the more he tried to reason, the faster his thoughts seemed to die as they were all devoured by the soothing song. He wanted to keep hearing that song while his body was spread by that delicious intrusion.
“…Ah—ahh… It’s… ghk… w-why does it feel so goo...d?”
His wrists were released, as if it knew that he wouldn’t resist anymore, and the first thing that Dimitri did was to stroke his length, blindly seeking for release. His shoulder jerked in surprise when he felt a slender tendril pressed against his oozing slit, teasing to worm inside. Without thinking, he just allowed it to keep pressing while he continued to rub his cock between slickened foreskin.
Even when his body was being probed in many places at once, he couldn’t stop feeling relaxed, almost as if his mind was not entirely connected to his body, as if the discomfort and pain suddenly were rendered meaningless against the intoxicating pleasure. The moment in which the thick tentacle stretched and entered his loosened up rim, it bumped at that bundle of nerves, once, twice, again and again and again, eliciting slurred cries from Dimitri; his whole frame trembled with the intensity of lightning running through his tender nerves.
He cried out as his urethra was pried open with the thin tendril, using the cum that still spurted as lubricant to penetrate him; at his high Dimitri lost control of his hands but couldn’t stop rocking his hips back and forth, not knowing where to get the most of pleasure. For a few minutes all he could do was to moan softly as he was swayed by such delightful tune rotting his brain into sweet compliance.
“Ah-ahh… hm-mm… you’re so g-good, Ah-aughh…” His position was changed to allow him lay on his back against the ground so the creature didn’t have to hold him up all the time, his lower back hoisted comfortably by supple tentacles acting as fleshy pillows. With his legs obediently spread, the creature had full reign on what it desired to do with Dimitri.
Not even finished coming down from his climax and Dimitri still felt how the tentacle in his ass was crawling further in, each time it pulled back just to thrust in, it was inching deeper inside his intestines, its slick slime facilitating the way for its incredible girth to pass through his canal.
At the pit of his stomach there was that ache, an unreachable spot that he’s been unable to relieve until now, it quietly craved for this monster’s intervention. He was close, so close…
His eyesight was still blurry with tears and overstimulation, he could barely tell how the creature looked like from the mess of tentacles that composed its body. Dimitri didn’t truly realize how deep it was going until he looked down at his stomach, seeing the astounding size, with each long thrust that explored his bowels, its tip protruded through the pale skin of his abdomen. He could merely moan confused, deprived from alarmed thoughts, only calming words hummed into his cracked mind.
Besides that, he could also see and feel how red and engorged his nipples were from the restless pinching, after they were released, he felt they were somehow heavier than before. They were so tender that merely a whiff of air upon them was enough to make his dick twitch. But they were not nearly as sensitive as his cock, having such a small tentacle quivering in his urethra, just shallowly going in and out until his glans was raw from overstimulation. So soon and he was already at the edge of another orgasm.
As it carried on fucking him deeply, Dimitri felt how the biggest tentacle started to pulsate within his guts. Even though he was far from concerned, the gentle whispers revealed to him that it was time for him to take its seed. His sloppy mouth trembled, as if a vague memory replayed in the back of his head, telling him that he’s been prepared for this moment before.
“F-fill me…! P-please, fill me whole…!” he groaned lusciously, rolling his hips as much as he physically could despite the large limb wedged so far inside him. But no matter what he said with his own deranged words, it was going to happen nonetheless.
And then, the tentacle buried itself further in, so impossibly far that Dimitri thought that it would tear his organs; instead, he started to feel a rush of incredible warmth, its load was like thick hot water pouring in, so deep and so fast that his stomach started to cramp within seconds, filling up his bowels almost too quickly. The guttural sounds that he made upon this overwhelming sensation of fullness could hardly be called human, but Dimitri wasn’t in a state of mind that allowed him to care.
He couldn’t remember anymore how or why he got here, and certainly couldn’t recall anymore why he resisted so hard against it in the first place. It was so warm, so nurturing, it made every prior qualm he had insignificant. Even the fact that he was currently being fucked next to his family’s grave didn’t matter anymore, because now he felt content taking this monster’s seed. Nobody was saying anything, so it had to be fine.
But that was just the first load, the tentacles that tangled themselves around his legs held him tighter as the next few spurts of the creature’s cum streamed into its Bride’s insides, sloshing and distending his stomach. He continued moaning giddily, spasming as the itch inside of him gradually dissipated as more cum filled him.
He couldn’t ejaculate with the tentacle inside his cock, but it didn’t stop him from convulsing with each pulsation, each jolt of his stuffed member and each long load spilling deep into him. The tentacle kept thrusting until it emptied itself completely inside Dimitri, who by then was so out of it that he didn’t notice that it stopped coming until he felt the painfully long pull of that swollen tentacle dragging itself out of his intestines; his inner muscles wouldn’t let it go that easily.
Even when he tried to protest, his body was already exhausted and heavy with seed, so there was little to be done on the prospect of separation. Dimitri couldn’t help groaning incoherently as his shivering hands tried to hold on to the creature’s supple body while it kept removing itself from him. His cock leaked profusely from his obscenely distended slit, flesh throbbing from being opened so unnaturally.
Its velvety whispers promised that it’d come and find him again soon. It promised Dimitri wonderful things while his bloated body was cradled between the many tendrils. Inevitably, when it finally pulled out the large tentacle from his gaping asshole, a torrent of cum spilled out; it wasn’t important to keep it all in.
Within minutes he already felt too empty, abnormally incomplete, but the creature still held him close in comfort until his heartbreak was assuaged, a sort of tender intimacy that complimented such beautiful tunes whirling inside his head. It comforted Dimitri until he was ready for their separation. His mind would be swimming in sweet oblivion by the time the creature left him.
It took a couple of hours before Dimitri recovered full control on his senses. He felt no shock upon becoming aware that he was lying on the grass half-naked and sore. With his thoughts still in disarray, he had no idea how to react to his complete awareness of what happened.
All that he knew was that he’d surely be meeting again with the monster that chose him as his Bride, whatever that entailed.
Next update? Not sure. Two weeks at most!
Hey, sorry for the late chapter, I was going through some deadline problems with another project, so I couldn't get much time to work on this.
Next chapter might also take a while because it's gonna be a little plot-heavy (maybe).
Warnings: Male Lactation (FINALLY), Tentacle Sex, Cum Excess, The Usual Stuff. And Weird Monster Anatomy just in case (spoiler alert, there's monster vagina in this).
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“Where have you been?” He felt frustrated when he woke to Dimitri opening the door of his chambers at nightfall, practically dragging his boots across the floor.
“… Crypts.” Dimitri replied quietly, he couldn’t even bother to hide the dirt on his fingertips or the disheveled state of his clothing. Even though Dedue suggested him to go take a bath, the young king passed out in bed.
Dedue could only predict that Dimitri had a relapse while visiting his parent’s grave, which caused him to wear himself down this much. Still, Dimitri stunk like he rolled on a pile of dead fish and Dedue would need to insist him to take a bath the following morning.
The next morning Dedue was relieved to confirm that Dimitri didn’t physically injure himself anywhere, however, he was notified that the garden of the burial grounds suffered some damage, blatantly a result of Dimitri’s little rampage. It was nothing that couldn’t be repaired, but still, Dimitri showed no awareness of what he did.
For the next few days Dedue noticed his demeanor changed significantly, seemingly calmer, if not absent-minded; Dimitri still had some trouble holding conversations with others but he wasn’t showing hostility or nervousness towards anyone anymore. For everyone it seemed like a step forward towards recovery, and though Dedue couldn’t disagree with that notion, he also couldn’t shake off the feeling that something strange was happening to his friend, all things considered.
Though he still respected the king’s privacy, Dedue would often find it hard to ignore when long and sensuous whimpers filtered through Dimitri’s chambers at high hours at night. It was even harder to get that image out of his head, when Dimitri furiously touched himself in the bathtub; he didn’t know if this was supposed to help Dimitri cope, but decorum be damned, Dedue wouldn’t dare to bring this up to him or anyone else. How could he? Outside of that one minor thing, Dimitri was otherwise in better spirits, he even started to see and interact with other people outside his circle of caretakers.
Perhaps Dedue was thinking too much.
A few days passed since the incident at the crypt, Dedue started to sleep more, he even managed to spare some time to check the chambers of the king and call for someone to fix the water leak from the roof that left a large stain right on top of his bed. It seemed incredible that Dimitri never complained about such a thing, but perhaps it never leaked too much while he was asleep. After that, Dedue wrote back home to the new representative of the Duscur delegation about the king’s condition. It was still too soon to determine when Dimitri would be ready to return to his political seat, so it was for the best to keep a restrained optimism.
During the afternoon, Dedue went to the barren dinning hall to see if Dimitri was still eating. He was pleasantly surprised to see that the king’s table was occupied with more plates than usual.
“You’ve been recovering the appetite. That’s good.” Dedue said as he stood right beside him, not close enough to be familiar, but not too far as to be considered too formal.
“I was just… hungry.” he replied, trying to dismiss Dedue’s observation with an embarrassed gesture. There was some sort of laziness embed to his voice, as if his attention wasn’t completely grounded on the present.
His blond hair was combed in a loose ponytail and his eyepatch’s band was neatly adjusted around his head, which meant that his caretakers had to help him to groom this morning. Was he so tired that he needed the help?
Still, Dedue was probably underestimating his friend, as he quickly noticed his lingering stare. “… You don’t think I’m doing better, do you?”
“Well, are you, Dimitri?” he retorted. To that, the king only smiled tightly, twirling the fork between his fingers.
“… I’ve been worse, that’s for sure. It feels… quiet somehow.”
“I guess that’s good to hear.”
In the past they used to talk about his ghosts a lot, Dedue knew of them way before they became too much for the then-prince to ignore, and it was clear that his captivity exacerbated their presence in Dimitri’s mind. Even though most of days he was able to act as if they were not there at all, Dedue knew better than to assume that he was ever freed from them. If Dimitri was telling him that they were quiet, wasn’t that a good thing?
But after his words, Dedue was met with more silence. It wasn’t an indifferent kind of silence, Dimitri was again lost in thought as his right eye drifted to stare at his table, looking at nothing. This behavior was precisely what worried Dedue. “…Your Majesty? Dimitri?”
Dimitri frowned, he blinked hard to regain focus again. “Oh, forgive me. I keep on losing track of my thoughts. I tried to go to train today, Felix showed up and, I uh, I think I’ve upset him somehow. Can’t remember how it went…”
He was again mumbling between bites of food, but at least he seemed to be more resolute upon acknowledging his shortcomings. It almost seemed like he was interested in eating. Which reminded Dedue of something—
“Annette wanted me to give you this. She made me promise that I’d see you eat them.”
He took from his large pockets a little box adorned with a pink bow, something that their dear redhead friend wanted him to deliver to Dimitri while she was unable to personally visit him. He should’ve told her that she could come see him herself, but he accepted her request nonetheless. When Dimitri gently opened the gift box, he hummed when he discovered the sugary treat inside, some sort of soft-looking pastry that seemed like something Annette would enjoy.
Dimitri only smiled tensely. “… Sweets. She said that she wanted to show me that store, but I never got around to buying anything from there.”
Dedue could see his face soften as he held Anette’s pastry in his fingers, as if smelling it was more than enough to enjoy it. Every time that Dedue watched Dimitri doing that to his food, his eye was filled with some sort of longing, but this time it seemed like he was more than eager to eat some more instead of just measuring the food he deemed necessary. It was refreshing to see the young king enjoy his meal so blithely, it was almost out of character.
As strange as it was, perhaps it was a good thing.
He couldn’t tell the truth to Dedue after all, every single occasion that surged, Dimitri never found the words to tell him what happened at the crypts. And he slowly realized that it wasn’t out of shame or fear or anything in between.
In the pondering silence of his bedroom he’d let his fingers shiver over his chest, recalling with vivid detail how he was touched and how it made him feel. How own body spoke for him, how his muscles tensed and relaxed, how the blood flowed down to his erection and his hardened nipples by just thinking about it.
He yearned for its touch, yearned for its soothing song to envelop him in its protection. And it’d soon return to him and fulfill that promise. If he told Dedue or anyone else the truth, would they comprehend his needs?
Ever since the time at the crypts, he started to eat more, sleep more, and even though it was difficult to maintain focus during the day, he couldn’t say that he felt wrong in any way. In fact, the lack of voices, the lack of troubling thoughts, it all felt like a weight was lifted, and he didn’t feel so sick when people came to talk to him.
Though he disappointed Mercedes for missing out the services because of his weariness, and though he upset Felix over their little match at the training grounds, Dimitri he felt strangely guilt-free.
One day they left Dimitri alone after his bathtub was prepared for him, and since he was now trusted to be able to care of himself with this, he didn’t feel in a rush to enter the water.
Having discarded all his clothes, even his eyepatch, he sat pensively at the edge of the bathtub, staring at the turbid water for long minutes, He was still not fond of bathing, and if he could help it, he’d let the water cool, not because he liked it better that way, but because the cold water forced him to make haste.
However, today he couldn’t help to feel indifferent about the water’s temperature.
His eye drifted along the crease marks of the water, feeling as if the tremors of something moving beneath the surface beckoned at him. Even though the bathroom air was meant to be scented with oils and soap, the increasing smell of fish didn’t go unnoticed under Dimitri’s nose as he intently observed the murky darkening of the waters, followed by the soft bubbling rising to the air, sending murmurs to Dimitri’s direction.
There was no way he could understand why or how this was happening, but still, somehow he deliberately allowed himself to wait alone here, to wait for it to come, as if a subconscious part of his mind knew that this is how it was meant to happen.
Chills ran down his naked back and he swallowed, parting his lips in a muted gasp as the shape of the endless limbs of the creature rose from the bathtub. A voice in the back of his head was quietly pleading him to get away, his legs were tense and bent, ready to start running. But as soon as the humid slimy appendage coiled around his wrist, he felt the rush of adrenaline pumping into his blood, awakening the heat in his loins.
Dimitri forgot about what he was thinking, hearing the soft wet words crawling out of the tub put at ease those lingering worries.
“… No, you only surprised me…” he murmured, even as his thoughts melted when his arms were being pulled into the deceptively cramped space of the bathtub. His heartbeat was in his head and his chest was full of craving. It was as if the world around him was falling apart, as if only he and It existed in the present.
More and more were coming out of the water, tendrils of gray barbed flesh wrapping around his waist and gently pulling him into the water, he moved his legs to get inside the bathtub, and the water was comfortably warm. The creature’s body shouldn’t be able to fit inside such a small space, and yet it did.
The tentacles, plentiful and strong, guided him to lay his against the imposing amount of body mass coming out of the water, and he jerked lightly as they curled around his spreading thighs and caressed the curve of his ass, impatiently stroking between his cheeks and causing Dimitri’s back muscles to jerk. Since he haven’t finished adjusting his stance his foot nearly slipped, but he was held firmly by the creature’s limbs, and slowly lowered him to sit on top of a nest of tentacles and the plump unknowable body of the creature.
The tendrils probed him and smeared their slimy residue all over and into his rim, already spasming with need, with every teasing poke his breath hitched, his hands couldn’t help but to grab on to the body of this creature. His cock was painfully stiff, his hips were rocking in anticipation. How couldn’t he? That song was so beautiful, and its words made his mind swim, it promised such wonderful things and it was going to make him feel so good.
Just like before, smaller pincer-like tendrils attached themselves to his nipples, the way they were stimulated was like dozen pricks pierced his nerves at the same time. He didn’t know what it was doing to him, but his erection was throbbing and making him whine.
Then another of the slim tentacles grabbed his member, and he gasped as he was pulled closer against the bulbous body of the creature, feeling his glans press against the wet inhuman skin, finding it tender and slicker unlike anything he’s felt before. It was quivering, the same as he; the tender folds were opening, the small tendril guiding him upon the apparent entrance so carefully guarded until now. Dimitri immediately comprehended what it wanted from him, so he started to thrust his pelvis into the delicious cleft, trying to squeeze himself in. The inviting slit wasn’t hard to penetrate with his hardened cock, and he moaned upon feeling himself hugged by its tingling warmth. It was a strange feeling, as if its walls were filled with soft bristles as they brushed the sensitive skin of his penis.
Unsurprisingly, small tentacles were coming from that entrance, pulling his member to that secret wet cavern. The one that previously had guided him there was probing his cock’s slit again, yet Dimitri carried on rocking his hips against the heat.
“A-ahh… Y-you feel so good…” he groaned, and he was rewarded with an almost-vicious squeeze around both his nipples and girth. Its whispers reminded him what a privilege it was to be allowed this amount of affection, its embrace tangled all over his back and arms.
However… this wasn’t enough, it knew it wasn’t enough yet.
The tentacle that had been teasingly slipping its tip in and out of his asshole finally begun to crawl in deep enough for him to feel it in his guts and he moaned relieved, his eyelashes fluttering in bliss. Dimitri tremulously pulled his hips out as the tentacle kept going further in, but he was pressed to keep moving, the insides of both him and the creature tightening with each slow thrust. Both his ass and member were stimulated with such intensity that he couldn’t help spilling in a matter of seconds.
His feverish moaning was soon silenced by the intrusion of another thick tentacle in his mouth, which he welcomed as it slipped through his sloppy tongue. Its tip was reminiscent of the form of a cock, but the rest of its texture was nothing like that, its bumpy shape made it difficult to accommodate its size when it delved deeper into Dimitri’s throat, the sudden deprivation of air made him flinch under the tight embrace of monstrous limbs.
Even though he already came and his energy was spent, the creature continued to fuck into him, lulling him with the sweet bubbling sound of its song. It could fuck him as much and however it wanted, he was going to let it and he was going to enjoy it… and at this point, he was well past the point of caring.
His arms and legs twitched, he could barely breathe, the overwhelming thickness of the tendril only kept diving further in. Dimitri made a faint effort to swallow through the delicate friction, but he only managed to gurgle and made it hurt unnecessarily, so before long he allowed his muscles to relax while buzz filled his mind. It was going in deeper, and he could swear that he felt it hit his stomach. With how far the one in his ass could go, he vaguely wondered if the two tentacles would eventually meet in the middle.
The tentacle in his gorge pulsed rhythmically and started to pour load after heavy load right into his stomach, immediately filling Dimitri. His whole body was trembling as if jolts ran across every nerve and bone, the insides of the monster squeezing a new orgasm out of him while his nipples were throbbing so bad they burned.
Only before he’d run out of air, the tentacle in his gorge started to pull out while it was still streaming its seed profusely, resulting on the thick white fluids spilling all over Dimitri’s face. It was so much that he couldn’t help coughing and leaking from his mouth and even nose.
He continued trying to recover his breath while the other tentacle inside his ass kept thrusting in and out at leisure pace, its barbs brushing his sensitive spot even after being forced to come twice, it was stirring his insides so good that it was nearly torture. It wasn’t long before it started to do the same as the other tentacle and came inside the exhausted man’s bowels, just adding to the already abundant semen that filled him, rounding his belly some more.
And then, after eternal seconds of stillness, the creature decided to let him go from its lock, removing itself from him.
He remained still in the bathtub, head hanging loose from the edge as the excess of fluids flowed out of him, lessening the obvious swell of his abdomen. The creature waited until it determined it to be safe to carry Dimitri out of the bathtub to his bedroom; it happened to smoothly that he barely noticed what was happening until backside was touching with the fabric of his bedsheets, whereas the wet skin of the tentacles stilled over his chest and legs.
He didn’t have the energy to moan, nor the state of mind to even respond to the sweet nothings it whispered in his helpless ears. He was sleepy and warm, wringed of all reason or worries, and yet, all that he wanted was for it to remain here with him, to breed him as many times as it wished.
And that was exactly what it would do.
That morning Dimitri couldn’t leave bed. It was past midday when he and his caretakers had to barge into his chambers after minutes of no response. Dedue came in to find their king still asleep in bed. From the looks of it, didn’t even bother to get sleeping clothes after taking his bath either, so their first concern was to make him decent again. Did he fall ill? His temperature was higher, but not enough to indicate a fever.
Before Mercedes came in, they tried everything to make Dimitri react, from calling him by his name to even slapping his face, but even though his eye would open, it didn’t seem like he wasn’t even aware. They kept going at it for minutes, but to no avail.
Mercedes came in and asked people to give them space, however she asked Dedue to stay. She then asked him to approach to the bed to move Dimitri’s body closer to the bed’s edge for her to inspect him more comfortably.
“Are you awake, Dimitri? Can you hear me?” she called, even snapped her fingers at him, but still no reaction.
“He doesn’t listen. It’s like he’s entered a trance of sorts. I’m… not sure what to do.” Dedue replied, feeling useless.
He saw the signs that something was off about Dimitri in the past few days, and yet he failed to take them seriously, he chose to give Dimitri more space for recovery, and now this was happening…
“Have you checked on his body?” Mercedes asked, pulling up her sleeves, paying no mind to Dedue’s grief-stricken face.
“I measured his temperature, but it didn’t feel like fever.”
Not that it mattered, he was far from qualified to understand everything about diseases, this is why they called for Mercedes in the first place. She was feeling Dimitri’s face to check for his temperature all the same, but then she gently brushed the blonde locks from his rosy face and used her fingers to open his left eyelid. His pupil was fully dilated, and they could barely see the blue of his iris.
“Dedue, was he taking another sort of medicine?”
“Well, what about his meals? Do you think he ate something bad?”
“I wouldn’t think so, no. His food is always tested for poison and his current cook is someone I trust… Yesterday I brought him a sweet from Annette. You don’t think…?”
“—Goodness, no!” she gasped, but she seemed focused on pulling off the buttons of Dimitri’s shirt. She observed his scarred body for long seconds while Dedue averted his gaze. “…Perhaps this is unrelated, but please take a look at this.”
Dedue did as she said and squinted, trying to conceal the unexpected blush on his face as he looked closer to the part that Mercedes demanded him to pay attention. He wasn’t sure what she wanted him to look until he noticed that perhaps Dimitri’s nipples were unusually larger and darker than what he last remembered; in his rush to get him dressed he failed to see that. Not only that, but just both his breasts seemed so slightly swollen, he could’ve easily mistaken it for muscle mass; Dimitri’s chest was always a tad muscular, so on first sight this went completely unnoticed.
She continued to touch him with cautious hands, pressing her fingers around the puffy protuberances, each second she spent examining him, her expression grew more disconcerted.
“His chest… The other day he told me that he felt pressure, but this…? This isn’t normal.” The ring of Mercedes’ voice sounded equally shocked as worried, and Dedue couldn’t help being infected by such distress. Mercedes’ fingers touched over his nipples, and she jerked back a little when Dimitri’s breath hitched upon contact.
Dedue observed that during that exchange something too odd to be true happened, as clear white droplet dripped from the teat Mercedes just touched.
“… Is that what I think it is?”
Wide-eyed they looked at each other in disbelief, not sure of what to make out of this. Experimentally, she again pressed her fingers together to squeeze that point again, another white discharge oozed from his nipple. Dedue cringed a little when she took her humid fingers close to her face and sniffed a little, her brows furrowing a bit.
“It seems that way” she finalized with an unusually stern look in her eyes, wiping her fingers in her practice apron.
For once she seemed at loss for words. Why would Dimitri, a man, suddenly start producing milk in all of sudden?
Again Mercedes tried to pinch that swollen nub, but she had let it go fast, as Dimitri squirmed and moaned on his bed from that alone; she must’ve believed that it caused him pain, but Dedue realized that a very blatant erection rising from beneath his clothes. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long before she saw it too, so she awkwardly decided to pull up the bedsheets over his crotch, clearly flustered by the discovery.
His eye was open half-lidded, his chest was rising and falling with each heavy breath, Dimitri was anything but self-aware right now.
“I know some methods to… stop breastmilk in women, but I’m not sure if it could work on him. This still doesn’t explain why Dimitri is in this state, so I’ll come back here with more equipment and books to see if I can figure out what’s wrong.” She explained, but for the way she was talking, there was not as much confidence as she had before. “In the meanwhile, Dedue, can you tell the caretakers to fill up the bathtub for him?”
He made no questions and ran outside the chambers to call them out. He quickly got a move on before them as he headed to Dimitri’s personal bathroom to begin preparing the place.
As soon as he opened the doors, his nose was hit by a very strong stagnant smell. There were puddles of water on the floor and the pristine ceramic bathtub was empty, but he couldn’t pinpoint from where or what did the scent come from. There was a musky property in the air too, and it immediately churned Dedue’s stomach, reminding him of the room where they found Dimitri weeks ago.
He had no way to prove it, but something terrible must’ve happened to Dimitri in this bathroom.
I may have seen The Lighthouse and I may be inspired by it. I also may think that it was the best movie from 2019 and everyone should watch it.
Also, a little late for this but... Happy New Year!