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. But you've all witnessed the failure in such imprudence." 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 was, no doubt, filled with drugs), was a new kind of torture; his body heated and prickled unbearably, and he could only feel his loins ache for hours without the possibility of moving his body in search of relief. Most of the time his mind wasn't even sound enough to count the hours or even the minutes, so it didn't take long before his perception of the pass of time was completely destroyed, losing himself in the waves of unwanted arousal.
The rampant assault of the voices didn't help either, but just like last time, the lack of awareness of his 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 was when he soiled himself, but it was done so fast and mechanically that he couldn't even get any comfort out of it. Days must've have gone on like this, maybe months, years…
The rot already sown inside him was expanding. There were days in which he welcomed the visions and the voices… if they came at all. 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, 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, more noise that occasionally filled his headspace and then abandoned 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 been so used to be submerged in nothingness, 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 in it, just letting them groom him, scrub the filth off him. Since he wasn't moving, they had no trouble using a folding razor to shave the messy hairs off his face until his skin was 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, everything felt like another dream that would soon vanish.
It felt like an 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. 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, because he literally lost his sense of taste years ago.
Thoughtlessly responding to the instinct of thirst, he picked up the silver goblet they put on the table, but his limbs had grown so clumsy that 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 face. 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... 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 has drunk 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 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 he just dirtied, the cool air made his half-hard erection begin to throb. He gasped mortified upon feeling the mouth 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. Worst of all, he hasn't stopped sobbing.
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, dilating his urethra so smoothly. The fact that it wasn't hurting as much as it seemed just confused him more.
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 his will was 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, 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… 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 it 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 wetness 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? ‘Why can’t you stop acting like a dirty 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 were becoming less random, slowly becoming more precise, consistent even, as if it quickly learned where to press, where to rub to make him 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 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 rob 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 for 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 first drag on 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 taking over his poor body.
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).