skelly

Lock ----- Rode looked up as the door opened, and watched his customer’s delicate face emerge into the light of the lantern hanging from the ceiling. It was Ash. As always, the young man’s features were encircled by a hood, his elven ears neatly tucked away behind locks of black hair. Hidden though they were, Rode Pessel had an eye for detail, and Ash had of course met with him many times before. If you wanted to fence stolen items, there was little other choice than to go see Rode. He had all of the connections you needed to quickly move those items along to a happy new owner, somewhere far away. It was inevitable that during one of his many visits, the half-elf would slip up, and thus Rode got a glimpse of those pointy ears. Of course, that type of information came in handy. It was a nice little bit of leverage for Rode. He kindly made Ash aware that he knew of his secret from the moment he’d seen those ears, and made sure to remind him regularly afterwards. Still, if you weren’t paying attention, the half-elf could fool many with his unusually human-esque complexion. He could charm many more with his soft, innocent face. Rode wasn’t much taken by that face, though. He could see right past it. “Hey there. Got anything to sell me, elfie?” Even a minor callout like that didn’t fail to put him on edge, just in case someone else might come in and catch that. The fence smirked as Ash did his best to suppress a glare when he replied. “Nope. Got anything for me, Rode?” “Sure.” The pawnbroker bent down to rummage through his collection of coded request scrolls, before emerging with one and reading it out. “Estate on the corner of Martin and Fair. Golden, enchanted ceremonial dagger, recently acquired at auction. Small size, high weight.” He glanced up at the half-elf, then. “Payout’s three hundred. No extras. Interested?” Ash exhaled slowly, sliding his hands in his pockets, before nodding. “Okay. Martin and Fair. Any competition for it yet?” The other shook his head. “You’re the first. But you know how it is, people come by all the time. Since I’m feeling generous… I’ll give you two hours to get it done. After that, it’s fair game.” “I’ll be back soon for that reward.” The half-elf turned around and headed out, leaving the stout man to his usual shady business as he braved the darkening streets. It had been only a couple of years since Ash had left the elven community far to the north. But it already seemed like another lifetime ago. He had settled into being a street rat. Though he wasn’t human, he could pretend to fit in here. The harbour city of Gremour still felt more like home than what came before. He never looked enough like the other elves. Didn’t act enough like them. There was no appreciation or acceptance of his presence ever since he was taken in. Whenever trouble arose, he was considered the troublemaker, the instigator, the spanner in the works. And the community eventually cast him out. Good riddance… he was never part of it anyway. Ash had done his share of what he needed to do to survive. Gradually, he learned how to take more control over his life. He learned how to bargain and steal, how to coerce and seduce, how to fuck and get fucked. An agile elven physique lent itself to quite a few different feats. One of which would be the theft of that ceremonial dagger, tonight. Avoiding the guard patrols became harder the closer he snuck to the wealthier districts, but eventually, Ash had made his way onto Martin Street. The corner wasn’t far. Muffled chatter and footsteps in the distance indicated people on approach, presumably guards. However, he knew the large hedges surrounding the estate would shield him from view if he was quick enough - which he was. The half-elf silently ran and jumped up against the metal fence lining the street, a small protruding decoration providing a point for his foot to launch himself up further. Grasping on, he swung himself over the top, past the hedge, and landed on the grass of the yard. After exhaling, Ash smiled and looked back. The hedge plant looked pretty sturdy. Provided he found a calm moment, he could toss the bagged loot on top of that hedge first, and then climb the bush to collect it on his way out. Alternatively, maybe he could find a key to the gate, and sneak out the front. Either way, the hardest part was already behind him. Good thing he knew the layout of the districts like the back of his hand. Now to get into the house. He snuck through the grass and around some of the sparsely planted trees to circle the building, scanning the surroundings to make sure he wasn’t in for any surprises. The coast seemed clear. Compared to other rich people’s gardens, though, he noted this one was a bit underwhelming. It didn’t seem like the yard saw much maintenance, nor were the plants and flowers much to look at. Wasn’t that the whole point of a garden? Then again, the half-elf wasn’t up to speed with the latest upper-class horticultural trends... maybe this lack of style was actually in vogue right now. The glimpse of a half-opened, low-down basement window drew him in. No climbing or finessing required. When he crouched down by the entrance, he was a bit surprised to see a hallway with various doorways on the other side. For some reason, evidently, the owner had a very elaborate basement. After kneeling down and leaning in to listen carefully, Ash was fairly confident there wasn’t anyone around down there - and that was what mattered most. With a little bit of effort, he managed to push the small, backward-tilting window open until it was locked in a horizontal position. A narrow entryway, but his body should be able to squeeze through, and his weight shouldn’t be enough to break the window as he crawled over it. So, turning his head, he went in. For a moment, his behind brushed against the edges of the gap, but not enough to create real resistance. With some maneuvering, he eventually slid past the window and carefully rolled off to land safely on the ground. The air was thick inside, unusually so. Not musty, rather… charged, almost. Charged with what, Ash couldn’t tell. Something was weird. He felt just the slightest bit dizzy, though that could have just been from the little acrobatic stunt to get down to the floor. In any case, he needed to keep his head clear. Focus on the goal. A ceremonial dagger. He was on a deadline, after all. Something strange caught his attention as the half-elf stood up and started to look around. Up on the wall hung an ornament unlike anything he’d really seen before. Small and metallic, an almond-shaped frame with an orb in the middle. The orb seemed to be rolling slowly, glinting in the light of the lanterns that lit up the hallway. As he looked closer, the texture and color of the orb changed gradually, becoming pale white and gooey. Then an iris appeared, and a pupil - it was an eye. And it was looking at him. His heart sank. That moment, the atmosphere in the room shifted completely, and nausea flared up from his stomach. There was movement right behind him, but when his sensitive ears picked up the gust of motion from the presence that had appeared, it was already too late. A hand wrapped around his throat and swung him up against the wall, propelled by an arm strong enough to lift him off his feet. The back of his head knocked against the wall, causing a throbbing ache to bloom as he clutched onto the arm that held him. Dark, piercing eyes glinted at him from behind messy brown hair, staring past Ash’s green irises and seemingly directly into his soul. There was no reason for a man walking around his own home to wear battle-ready clothing, yet his attacker wore a gambeson-like robe, black with glimmering silver lines stitched along its padded surface. Ash immediately understood that he was completely out of his depth. This man had just teleported over to him in light armor. A mage - and a dangerous one. Fear struck the half-elf as he choked under the iron grip depriving him of air, and his feet slid across the wall looking for leverage. The welcome he received was cold and simple. “You are trespassing in my house.” A swift punch impacted his body, just above his stomach, knocking the last ounce of breath out of him. Released from the chokehold, he was dropped to the floor to gasp for air, every bit of strength removed along with his ability to breathe. The mage silently took note when the tip of a pointed ear slipped out of the intruder’s tousled black hair, but it didn’t change what would follow. Before Ash could fully comprehend what was happening, cuffs materialized, wrapping themselves around his wrists and ankles as he tried to get up. Driven by unnatural forces, the restraints pulled his limbs up so that his body began to hover just off the ground, while swiftly spreading his arms and legs apart to render him completely defenseless. Obviously, this was the result of some kind of magic the man had cast. And he could do nothing against it. At the mage’s behest, the restraints began to carry the young man forward, keeping him suspended in the thick air he shakily breathed. Only the half-elf’s hair had any contact with the floor when his head hung low. His captor moved him down the hallway and over towards one of a few reinforced doors in the extensive labyrinth of a basement. It opened on approach. “What…” Ash tried to formulate on a ragged, broken voice. It was too quiet to be heard. The half-elf gave up before he even made an attempt at another word. He tried desperately to recover more breath as he was taken into the small, square, closed off room that lay beyond the heavy door. The sound of that thick, impenetrable entrance closing off behind the mage made him swallow anxiously. Suddenly, the restraints pulled him up upright and turned him around, to face the large, bearded man while his chest heaved. As rough hands reached towards him, he flinched with the memory of the lung-emptying punch he received earlier. Direct violence was not their goal this time, however. Instead, they were after the half-elf’s belongings and clothes. As the magical cuffs forced Ash to change position, the mage worked to take everything away from him. First his cloak, and his belt. His thieves’ tools clattered across the ground in a matter of moments, followed by his pouch and bag. The thief barely had enough time to register what was happening as every piece of his leather armor and his tunic were swiftly torn off. When even his underwear hit his ankles and was then ripped off his feet to fully expose every part of his body, he closed his eyes with a whimper. “Mercy,” he whispered. “Wait, have mercy.” The man’s deep, rich voice cut right through his begging. “Tell me what you are doing here.” “I-I’m a thief. I’m just a thief.” The half-elf opened his eyes again, willing himself to look the storm in the eye. The words struggled their way out of his mouth while his throat was on fire. “You came to steal. Alone, by the looks,” his attacker concluded, which made Ash wonder just how much he could monitor in and around his house, or whether that was just… a lucky guess. “That means you came for something specific, something you can move by yourself. What did you aim to steal from me, rat?” “Cer-ceremonial dagger.” The half-elf’s chest moved with agitated breaths as he looked into those cold eyes. Then his attention was drawn to the palm of the man’s hand as an object appeared in it, out of thin air. Golden, weathered, and soaked in a subtle magical energy. The mage could teleport objects around his house, Ash realized, as well as himself. “This, then.” The man looked up as he held Ash’s prize. “Who sent you for this?” For a moment, Ash hesitated. Thieves’ honour, protecting your own… all of it flashed through his head. His body crumpled in on itself in distress. And before the man could do whatever he would decide to do next, to get the information he was after... the half-elf suddenly cracked, answers spilling from his mouth. “R-Rode Pessel.” A soft, pained sigh escaped him after those words, and he tried not to make a noise as a tear rolled from his eye. He never thought this would happen. He never believed it would come to this. But he hadn’t been caught before. And now, when pushed even slightly, he gave up instantly. Ash was a coward. As the flash of fear in his body began to subside, the discovery of his own cowardice stung him harder than the punishment he’d already endured. He didn’t even like Rode, but Ash would never, ever want to be snitched out so easily. Anything close to an ally had been so far and few, and Rode hadn’t sold him out. He knew there wasn’t enough of a reason to, and he had counted on not creating a reason. He needed predictable people, and Rode was that. He was such a fuck-up for this. “The pawnbroker.” After a lingering, penetrating gaze, the mage gave him a nod. The magical cuffs brought him over to the wall, and runes appeared on the stone surface around the restraints as they locked him in place there. The next moment, the man vanished and the half-elf was left trapped against the wall, to stew in his own conscience. Unaware of what would befall him, the pawnbroker slid a payment across the counter for the latest artefact he’d just received. “Let me know if you see any more of these,” he said with a nod, watching the treasure hunter collect the money and walk out without another word. “Yeah, you’re welcome for the stack of coin,” he mumbled softly to himself after the door shut. “See you later Rode, I’ll keep an eye out…” Then he chuckled softly. It didn’t matter much, so long as he could keep getting valuable items relatively cheap from these ruin-diggers. Turning around, he walked over to unlock his storage room. As the man ventured inside, his eyes wandered over the many different containers present in the room, looking for the right spot. While he walked by various shelves to arrive at his chest of artefacts, the door to his shop slammed shut. Immediately after, the storage room door closed, and somehow was locked despite only him having a key to it. Rode froze up. It had been a while since he’d felt fear. “Who’s there?” his voice blurted out. The very next moment, a vicious hit to the head knocked him off his balance, sending him stumbling to the opposite side of the room. The shelves on the wall shattered and crashed down as Rode fell into them. Wooden boxes and display cases of jewellery slid off broken surfaces, battering his body and scattering across the floor. “Knock knock, Pessel.” Groaning as pain bloomed, the storekeeper rolled over with bulging eyes to identify the attacker… but didn’t find anyone he might have expected. “Who the fuck are you?” his voice strained to ask in a growl, before his arms were forcefully bent behind his back by an invisible force, while the other brandished his dagger. “Remember this?” the mage asked as he held the weapon out, letting its end hover next to the pawnbroker’s gut in the dim light. “Think carefully. Ring any bells?” “Wha-?” The man’s stomach retracted anxiously at the proximity. “Wait… the dagger?” He looked up, confused, as the man nodded. “That’s right. The theft of my property didn’t pan out, unfortunately.” He crouched down slowly, peering into the other’s eyes. “Now you’re going to tell me who the buyer for this item is.” Slowly, the tip of the blade began to push in against the thin layers of clothing that separated it from Rode’s flesh. No matter how he struggled and cursed, he couldn’t get away from the slow, penetrating pressure. He barely had control over his body. “Alright. Alright, stop!” His voice cracked, anger and fear filling his brown eyes. “Man called Ditrech Huems, he’s after it. Okay?” “That old kook,” the mage said softly. The knife paused, pressing deep enough to already draw the storekeeper’s blood. “He must have followed me to figure out the address after I took the dagger home from the auction.” His eyes focused on the fence again. “Where are the instructions he gave you for the theft?” “Just in my head. I’ve got them memorized,” Rode lied. If he lost the scrolls, he’d lose most of his business. But his attacker unfortunately didn’t buy it. In one swift motion, the dagger split his vest and undershirt open, leaving a nasty red line across the centre of his body. As the weapon was reeled back to stab him, he changed his mind quickly. “The scrolls! They’re in the locked drawer under the counter, but you can’t read them anyway because they’re coded,” he ranted, his breath becoming audibly stickier. “Only I can decode them mentally, and that’s the truth. I swear! I swear.” The mage raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t ask to read the instructions, did I? But I’m glad you are taking this a little more seriously. Thank you for the information.” He glanced over at the blade, glowing softly, before looking back at his victim. “You probably don’t even realize what you were going to sell here, huh. Do you even know what historical ceremonies this blade has been involved in?” “What does it matter?” the pawnbroker replied with exasperation, before his mouth was covered with the man’s hand, muffling him. “Beautiful, ancient blood rites.” The knife was driven deep into his belly, and as his skin was carved open, the blade of the knife drank in his blood grredily, absorbing it. As a bright glow seeped out of the wound, the dagger’s old enchantment fed the wielder with copious amounts of mana. A telekinesis spell broke open the pawnbroker’s ribcage under his flesh with a muffled crunch, allowing the razor-sharp blade to cut upward more easily, and seek out the pawnbroker’s blood-pumping core. While Pessel choked and trembled, releasing a muffled rattle, his organs began to fail one after the other. His punctured heart fed blood directly to the weapon lodged deep in his chest, until the last of his weakened, sobbing breaths passed from his nose. A rush hit the mage as the blade was fully sated. He felt more energized than he’d been in a long while. Dripping with blood, the mage withdrew the dagger and stood up, leaving the corpse where it lay. Magic sprayed it with the blood that had covered his clothing. A ravaged work of art, just like the splintered planks, broken cases and spilled valuables surrounding it. The door to the storage room opened, and the man made his way over to the counter to locate the locked drawer. A simple scanning spell confirmed the scrolls were inside, at which point his teleportation magic fed the contents of the drawer to the void. No clue would remain that led to his residence. Then only the buyer was left. Couldn’t hurt to tie up that other loose end tonight, before he went back to the one that awaited at home. Old age was going to get Ditrech Huems soon enough, so he’d barely have any life left in him to feed on. Not worth carving up, or creating a clear pattern of murders over. The old man wouldn’t really have the energy to struggle either, so… little entertainment value. The mage calmly slid the still-red dagger under his belt before he teleported over. Watching invisibly, he waited for Huems’s caretaker to help him to bed, tuck him in and leave. As the old man began to doze off, he sauntered over to his bed and wrapped his hands around that fragile, old windpipe. Ditrech could barely even react as his assailant squeezed his throat shut and held him down, other than to stare in horror. He was left, however, with the parting gift of a comforting whisper. “You just had to have that fucking dagger. Couldn’t leave well enough alone. Well, deep down, I think you know it deserves better than to gather dust in your boring old collection, don’t you Huems? Not to worry, I will keep its glory alive. Can’t say the same for you, though. Sleep tight, old goat.” He drew breath no more. Finally, the mage let go, and shut the old man’s anguish-stricken eyes. Housekeeping was done, and now he could finally unwind at home. When the mage reappeared, the thief up on the wall looked pale and tired. Obviously he’d tried to struggle against his restraints in the meantime, without avail. The cuffs hadn’t budged an inch. An anxious energy filled the half-elf’s body all at once. Moreso than the mage’s re-appearance, it was a glance at the blood-saturated blade on his belt that did it. The half-elf shook his head, looking up desperately. “No. D-did you kill Rode? Tell me he’s okay!” The mage gave him a calm look. “Why do you care so much?” he asked, before taking the weapon and watching the blood that remained on it slowly dissipate into the blade. “Was he your father or something?” “No, he wasn’t.” Ash’s green eyes glared at his captor. “But I know him. Did you kill him, yes or no?” A hint of amusement appeared on the mage’s face as he looked up again. The half-elf had some spunk to him, demanding a response like that. He decided to indulge him. “Yes. In keeping with the blade’s history, I gutted him like a pig and absorbed his essence. Gave me a nice little mana boost.” Though his tone wasn’t the easiest to decipher as being serious or taunting, the man’s eyes glinted with the memory of what he described. He’d done it. Ash looked away, and took a shaky breath. “What’s the matter?” the mage asked curiously, his brown locks shifting as he tilted his head slightly. “If he’s just someone you knew, what’s the big deal? Or are you just afraid I’ll do the same to you?” The half-elf shook his head. “No… I’m sure you can think of more creative ways to kill me,” he answered bitterly, glancing back. A brief laugh flowed from the other’s deep voice, and he let the dagger vanish from his hand. “Very good. You’re not wrong.” His tone now seemed genuinely intrigued. “But if you’re already prepared for that, then what are you so upset about?” “He’s dead because I ratted him out!” Ash cried out. His face reddened with shame, anger and despair. “I didn’t even try to resist! I’m a fucking coward, okay? So why don’t you do whatever you’re going to do, and take me out already?” “Pff… Such drama. You did the right thing, if you ask me. Avoided a whole lot of suffering that you correctly sensed was coming your way, if you didn’t give me what I asked. Pessel was going to die either way.” He gave a soft chuckle. “If it makes you feel any better… all I had to do was show him the dagger, and he immediately gave me your name. That pawnbroker would have given you up just as easily - perhaps even more easily. You owe him no loyalty, Ash.” Considering he hadn’t given the attacker his name, the half-elf was taken aback for a moment. Still, he had no idea why the mage was trying to argue with him. Who even was he? While his mind attempted to make sense of the situation, his eyes became fixated on the mage’s hand as it reached out leisurely and gripped his thigh, sliding along his flesh and squeezing it like it was testing the firmness of a cut of meat. His body had cooled down in the chilled room. The contrast with the warmth of the other’s palm and fingers touching his flesh sent a little shiver down his spine. “W-what are you doing?” he breathed as the hand slid slowly up towards his inner thigh. The sensation of travelling warmth suddenly brought a little life to his elven cock, making him shut his eyes tightly and shake his head. “S-stop. Don’t touch me. Leave me alone!” “Why not? You seem to like it. Have you already enjoyed men?” the mage asked calmly, in response to which Ash’s eyes opened to give him an anxious stare. “W-what? No!” Very quickly, his testicles were enveloped by a tight grip. The man’s hand was tauntingly close to irreversible damage and intense pain, causing him to squeal and strain against the cuffs. “No-no-no, don’t! Don’t!” “I don’t - like - lies.” The man’s voice sounded almost hypnotic as its deep tones crept into his pointed ears. “And I’m very good at detecting them. So don’t lie to me, understand?” “Yes, okay, okay! I’m sorry! I won’t lie. I promise. Please…!” Slowly, the threatening tightness around his balls loosened, and the half-elf breathed shakily in relief. He needed to be cautious… and polite. “Th-thank you…” “Look at me.” Ash’s teary eyes obeyed, seeking out the darkness of the other’s gaze. “What men have you been intimate with?” the mage asked coolly. A big lump tightened the half-elf’s throat, but he forced himself to answer, cheeks burning. “Customers. I’ve… sold my body.” “Hm. Daddy issues?” the other asked sarcastically then. The half-elf’s whole body tensed, caught off guard by the callous dissection of the most intimate parts of his life. “Fuck you,” he spat in anger as his body rattled against the cuffs, before his boldness quickly petered out as some instinctual self-preservation kicked in. He muttered slightly while his eyes glowed like emeralds, still glaring into the other’s eyes. “...w-whatever your fucking name is…” “My name is Ledger,” the man answered coolly. “Now calm down. Was it love, or hate that fuelled the experiences you had?” He let the question hang in the air for a moment, before adding: “Were they gentle?” Quickly, the half-elf’s temper seemed to subside into a flustered embarrassment. Why did he want to know? If he didn’t answer, though, he was sure more pain would follow soon. After a moment of hesitation, he replied. “Some were rough. Some were… gentle.” “How sweet.” Ledger’s eyes rested on his captive’s as he smiled. “Well, it’s good to know you’re already experienced. It’s a reason to keep you alive longer, if you play your cards right.” “What?” As Ash tried to follow what was going on, symbols made of light appeared around the half-elf’s half-mast cock as the mage held his hand out. Following the mage’s guidance, runes were drawn that immediately wrapped tightly around his skin, and seeped in to leave a darker, tattoo-like imprint around the base of the half-elf’s shaft. “W-what are you doing to me?” His eyes flashed up to him nervously. “I’m just having some fun,” the mage responded calmly as he undid his robe. “Don’t worry.” With a motion of his hand, the magical cuffs that had kept Ash pinned to the wall dissolved, causing him to abruptly fall. As the half-elf’s feet made contact with the ground, his knees buckled under the weight of his body, and his hands shot out to catch himself. When Ash looked up with quickened breaths, Ledger let his garb fall to the ground and pulled off the shirt underneath to lay bare wide shoulders, strong arms, a lean chest and stomach. His lower body was laid bare immediately after. The sights distracted the half-elf enough to make him easy prey. “Kuh~!” Grasped by the scruff of his neck, Ash’s head was forced down and his lower body was straddled by the older male. The half-elf’s legs were sandwiched between the mage’s knees and shoved together, a very eager human erection lowering towards his raised ass. Unlike the smoothness and elegance of his elven member, it felt veiny, thick, brutish as it dragged down between his cheeks. The bulbous head was swiftly guided up against his delicate rim. “No, w-wait!” he squeaked, shivering under the mage’s body. “Lubricant! At least some lubricant, please!” “Well, well. You really are experienced, aren’t you?” the man asked with a taunting smile, pausing as his cockhead bore down on the half-elf’s anxious entrance. “Well, lucky for you, I have just the thing.” In the blink of an eye, a bottle appeared in the mage’s hand, soon uncorked. Pulling away from the half-elf and letting him breathe an anxious sigh, Ledger set the bottle down on the ground. As one hand cast a spell, the other sought out the captive male’s cheeks, spreading them open. An oily ointment slid easily out from the bottle under the mage’s magical control, launching weightlessly into the air and over towards Ash’s ass. “Ah!?” The half-elf shifted nervously as the thick liquid slicked his entrance with pressure. Soon, it slipped past, coiling along his tight walls and coating them thoroughly. The weirdly silken touches travelling along his insides gave him shivers as the substance unapologetically reached into his depths. “W-what… exactly… is that?” he gasped. “The best lubricant you could wish for. It’s an enchanted lotion that will seep into you. When it’s settled, your asshole will have all the resilience it needs to take just about anything without breaking,” Ledger declared. “A personal invention.” When the liquid’s swirling motions finally stopped, his insides were initially cool. As the mixture seeped in and bonded with his flesh, however, they gradually grew warmer. Ash panted softly under the unusual stimulation. He wasn’t sure why Ledger allowed him to have this, if it truly did what he claimed, but he wasn’t about to protest. His mind couldn’t help but wonder, though, why the mage already had this handy. Perhaps he wasn’t the first to receive this treatment. Which made him wonder who might have come before him, and what they had experienced… A few seconds was all it took to settle. Ledger wasted not a moment longer. The half-elf was pulled back to reality with an abrupt groan when he was suddenly, roughly breached, mounted like a beast’s mate. His back arched as the bulky human cock eagerly stretched him around its shape. Though the effects of the lubricant ensured his ass did not tear, he still felt everything about how his hole was reshaped. Every rough, unforgiving thrust soon wrought a high-pitched moan from his lips as his body trembled under the male’s bucking pelvis. The mounting pressure squeezed tears onto his cheeks, his ass struggling to accommodate the harsh pounding that only intensified. When his prostate was battered, he cried out, his cock hardening more under the mixture of discomfort and pleasure. “Aaah~! Ledger, Ledger~! S-stop! I’m gonna break, please!” “I gave you what you needed. Now shut the fuck up.” The deep, breathy voice rolled into his ear, crashing against his mind like the ocean against the sands. He was drowning in the rhythm in which he was being taken, his cock throbbing between his legs like a dog in heat. From his neck, Ledger’s hand slid into his raven hair and locked it in his grip. “You won’t break unless I will it.” The vigorous slaps of flesh on flesh soon filled the small room. The sounds reverberated in Ash’s mind as the mage claimed him, all the way to the hilt of his long and crude manhood. Soon, the smacks of his pelvis began to bring colour to Ash’s cheeks. Mercilessly moulding the half-elf’s ass to the shape of his cock, he slammed the whole length down into his delicate frame until the half-elf’s mind was in a haze. Discomfort began to make way for a wave that shot through his system, every time the human’s cockhead scraped past his sweet spot, filling him to the brim with pounding hot human arousal. Ash knew he had to come. But it wouldn’t happen. His cock twitched and throbbed, prancing with every lunge of the human’s dick. His voice was growing hoarse as he sang moans and groans of anticipation, leaking precum. But climax wouldn’t reach him, no matter how close he got. As his body danced tantalisingly on the brink of coming undone, so did his mind, melting with heat. Tears blurred his vision, reduced to dancing light and colour. “Ahh~! Hah~! Ledger! I’m so close - ah - what’s happening? I- I’m going to-! Nggh - just a little more…” Wolfishly growled words answered him, sinking deep into his struggling consciousness, down to the seat of his soul. “No, you’re not going to come… You can never come again without my permission. The enchantment on your cock gives me full control. Do you really think I would let you spill your elf-seed whenever you’d like?” “But… I...” He wasn’t kidding. No matter how intense the sensations became as his ass was drilled into a perfect sleeve for Ledger’s cock, the teases at the edge of climax kept piling up without release. His eyes slid shut under the intensity. When that hard meat began to throb inside him, he felt like his sanity was slipping. Maybe when the human came... he’d let the half-elf release too. It was the only coherent, hopeful thought left in his brain, a tiny spark. With every bit of strength remaining in his muscles, Ash clenched tightly around the mage’s cock to milk it as he was stuffed full, devolving into a mess of panting and broken noises under Ledger, praying for release. The feeling of warm seed suddenly rushed to fill him, bringing a new flood of sensation that he couldn’t handle anymore. The half-elf’s tongue lolled out of his mouth, and when another hot spurt coated his insides while the thrumming cock assaulted his prostate, his mind failed to keep up. Ash slipped abruptly out of consciousness. With a smile, Ledger took in the sight of the half-elf’s mind short-circuiting. He could sense the very moment it overloaded. Holding up the slowly slumping half-elf by his hair, he filled him with his release, before finally pulling out. What seed still clung to his cock after, he wiped clean on the other’s tender, pelvis-battered cheeks. “Tsk, tsk. So easily overwhelmed.” He gave a soft laugh at the cute sight. A gaping, long-eared male, splayed out with a raging erection, drooling onto the floor. Knocked out from just a single round in his ring. “Don’t worry, toy. You’ll get used to it.” Ledger had all the time in the world to teach him endurance, as rigorously as needed. After the lives he’d taken that night, he was feeling driven. Perhaps even a little inspired. Rather than chasing another disposable high, he could make a nice pet project out of this soft and sensitive, handsome little half-elf. And by the look of the nude thief’s elegant but eagerly hard cock, he might even enjoy it. When the half-elf eventually came to with a groan, the world was still a blur. His head felt adrift. Ash rubbed the remains of tears from his eyes, and was greeted with the sight of the mage, leaning casually up against the door on the other side of the room, still in full nude glory. When the thief moved his legs to try and gather himself, something rubbed against his sensitive insides and instantly set off his tenderized nerve endings, drawing a surprised moan from him. He was still stuffed full, somehow. By something that... had the same shape and texture of Ledger’s cock, he came to realize. But he could see that cock with his own eyes on the other side of the room. A look back revealed nothing sticking out of his ass, and he groaned as he attempted to sit up, only to feel it stir against his prostate. “What… hah… what’s inside of me…?” the half-elf asked softly, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “Hardened jelly, shaped in my likeness. An old souvenir from a realm I visited before - a pet. It’s called a gerrif. Gelatinous creatures that can take just about any shape. For the purposes of training… I’ve decided to let this one futher familiarize that sensitive hole of yours with my shape.” Ash shook his head, struggling to take everything in. “Realm? C-creature?” he asked incredulously. “Ledger- nngh~! Ahh… fuck!” After sliding out very slowly, the jelly cock had lunged into him with a swift, deep thrust. Sensitive as his ass still was from the earlier hammering, it took very little to reignite the sensations that had already grown out of hand before, rendering him weak-kneed, panting and shamefully hard as the creature lunged its body against the squeeze of his warm, snug hole. “It’s really alive... No, Ledger~ please! I can’t… not again. I’ll lose my mind... Please, I’ll do whatever you say. I don’t want to pass out again...” The mage pushed himself away from the door, and kicked a small bowl in the direction of the half-elf as he sauntered over. Parked right in front of him, the white, gooey contents awaited the half-elf’s confused gaze. “I emptied my seed out of you before putting the jelly in. If you want to show your dedication… you can start by cleaning out that bowl and swallowing every drop.” The thief’s eyes moved from the cum to Ledger’s face towering above him, then back down to the bowl. He gulped down the knot in his throat. “Is that a ‘yes, sir’?” “Y-yes sir.” If it meant an opportunity at salvation, he had to play along. “Thank you, sir,” the thief added softly, which earned him a smirk. Bent over the bowl on his hands and knees, Ash licked and sucked up the seed that had filled his body earlier, cheeks burning with the thick indignation he swallowed alongside every helping of the other’s spunk. His hands grasped a tighter hold as the living jelly became even more lively, occasionally becoming visible between his cheeks before disappearing with another rough deep plunge that made his delicate body shake like a reed. Despite the breathy noises flowing from his nostrils as he struggled to keep himself upright, the half-elf did his best to work quickly and clean thoroughly. The man’s salty, savoury taste began to coat his mouth and throat whenever he swallowed, but thankfully it wasn’t the worst flavour he’d ever had. Eventually, not a speck was left on the bowl when he withdrew from it. After being picked up and given a closer inspection, the bowl vanished from Ledger’s hand. The half-elf tensed up briefly when the man’s fingers reached down to dig into his hair, but then he gradually eased into their gentle touch. He groaned as the anal sensations began to make his head spin again. “Good boy.” The voice seeped into his thoughts again, warm and proud, accompanied by the massage of fingers tenderly raking his scalp. “I knew you had more to offer me. Well done.” The thief could come again already, in that very moment. Ash dug his nails into his own lap to distract from the feeling of mounting pleasure, and tried to keep his breath steady. “T-thank you, sir. May I… please…” His cock twitched with want as the gelatinous copy of Ledger’s length slid deliciously inside, moving to a rhythm that wound him up perfectly. “Gods, please… may I come?” His green eyes flashed up, pleading with Ledger as he sat up. Though it was clear the show of submission did something for the mage, he kept a cool head. “You really need to train your stamina so you don’t black out from mere stimulation again,” the man told him, brushing possessively through the male’s black hair. “However… because you showed obedience, I will allow you to earn some relief. Put your experience to use and give my cock and balls your best treatment. Make me cum again… then I’ll let you have your climax.” Eager for immediate relief from the frustration that was making his thighs tremble, Ash swallowed a whine and gave a gentle nod under the man’s hand. His face was flushed with tension. “Yes…Yes, sir,” he breathed. “I’ll do my best.” When he readied himself, it was the first time he got a close-up, face-to-shaft look at the other’s cock. To the half-elf’s surprise, he wasn’t the only one equipped with a darkened band of runes around the base. His green eyes flashed up briefly. “You… enchanted yourself?” he inquired softly. “Of course. Having control over my own body is as important as having control over yours.” Which meant… the mage could choose to block or delay his orgasm, just like he did to Ash. Even if the thief did a good job, he could still drag it out. The half-elf grew a little more anxious at that realization. “Ledger… will you please allow me to make you cum freely?” he asked as sweetly as he could, seeking out the man’s dark eyes again while his hand wrapped tenderly around his manhood. “Please?” “We’ll see,” the other replied with some amusement. It was clearly the best deal Ash was going to get. The only deal, really. He was desperate for release… maybe he could make the mage ache for it, too. The tremble in the half-elf’s thighs subsided slightly as the jelly adjusted its pace. The motions began to drag more slowly along his walls. It didn’t stop Ash’s heart pounding in his chest, though, and his cheeks remained beet red. The change to a more slow and intense stimulation made him moan softly against Ledger’s balls as he leaned in to give them each a kiss. His hand began a slow and steady, massaging stroke from the base of the mage’s shaft to his head, and back. Opening his lips, he began to lick at the other’s sack like he was lapping at scoops of ice cream, letting the flavour of those intimate parts permeate his mouth. He rolled his tongue as if he was enthusiastic to taste more, as if he wanted to tease out the virile seed stored within. He was going to use all of his experience, alright. As his nose brushed against the man’s cock, Ash took in more of Ledger’s scent, mixing the tastes saturating his mouth. Combined with the deep, continual feeling of that same cock claiming him fully, the half-elf was beginning to slip into a sensual trance of sorts. Maybe it had been too long since he’d had sex. Combined with the relief he was growing ever more desperate for, and the amount of control he currently had over what he was doing, Ash was gradually drawn into Ledger’s particularities. The rugged irregularities along his hard human cock, sliding under his grip. The taste of his balls. Fleeting noises flowed from his nostrils as he suckled on the testicles, lidded and hazy green eyes looking up at the mage. Soon, the glimmer of precum appeared at the tip, drawing his attention. A sign that he was doing well. With a vague hint of a hopeful smile, Ash gave Ledger a few more firm strokes before his hands descended. Meanwhile, he let his agile tongue slowly work its way up along the mage’s shaft, toward that glistening tip. The thick, charged air in the room and the rhythmic rush of stimulation from the gerrif’s efforts had him hypnotized with lust. While his thumbs firmly rolled across the man’s balls and his fingers gently caressed them, the half-elf worked his way up to tease the edges of Ledger’s cockhead. His ears were perked for every little grunt and groan from the human’s nose and mouth, gleefully drinking in the sounds as he pressed his lips to the man’s cock to suck up his precum. After licking around the head, he finally let it slide down his tongue and towards his throat as he looked up, giving a muffled moan to underscore the rumbling sounds of pleasure he elicited. As Ledger tensed more and more, the gentle touch of his fingers in the half-elf’s hair became a deeper drag through his dark locks, and finally a firm, commanding grip on his head as he sucked the man’s thick cock. The mage was wound up, now, eager to find the point of no return in his lust and push it. Between strained breaths, his voice was a growl. “Good fucking boy. You know how to please. Now, don’t back down.” Aided by his grip on the thief’s head, Ledger took control. His cock slid deeper, twitching hungrily. When the blunt head hit the back of Ash’s throat for the first time, the young man shivered and choked. His eyes squeezed shut, tearing up as he did his best to suppress down his reflexes. “Not trained much in depth though, are you?” The mage shook his head as he pulled back slowly, making him gradually ease down from choking. “Luckily, you’re the type that looks pretty when they cry. You’ll learn.” The vibrations of an anxious groan were trapped inside the half-elf’s mouth when Ledger pulled his head in again, back and again, drawing more tears to the corners of his eyes. Though his throat felt raw, the half-elf fought against it constricting, and began to notice that the mage seemed to have a good sense of how far he could push - not too fast, not too deep, not too hard, right up against the limit. Under the encouraging noises of pleasured breaths, Ash tenderly massaged the man’s balls and surrendered himself slowly, relaxing into the mage’s greed… letting Ledger dictate the rhythm. Breathing shakily through his nose, he allowed the other to use him. His reddened cheeks glistened as the mage slowly but surely claimed more, and more, and more of his throat. And when the man’s pubes tickled his nose, his eyes shot open in surprise, looking up at the human’s satisfied grin. Another pull on his head from that unyielding hand, and finally his throat was being stuffed full of throbbing human cock, his nose flattened against the man’s groin. While he fought against his body’s urge to remove the choking hazard, hot cum suddenly shot down his windpipe, destroying his self-control. Muffled coughs forced themselves out of his throat with more and more urgency until, with some leeway allowed by the other, he pulled himself away to sputter and breathe - but Ledger’s grasp did not release him. While he gasped and panted, the mage’s seed shot into his face. A hot line across his nose and eyebrow, spatters mixing in with his tears. As he fought for breath, he shook slightly, keeping his eyes shut tight while he was marked with the other’s hot semen, before the grip on his head finally loosed. At the same time, another rush of toe-curling stimulation flooded into his mind from his prostate. He was completely overwhelmed. Words just barely drifted into his consciousness. “You need more training, whore. But you have promise.” The mage’s fingers gave a sharp snap. As it resonated in Ash’s sensitive ears, in his body, and in his prancing cock… the magical hold on his arousal was unlocked by Ledger’s will. With another sudden, deep thrust of the jelly, the half-elf came undone hard, overdue and overstimulated. With a broken, gasping moan, the male slipped on his knees while his cum shot out in messy spurts. The release of tension rendered his muscles weak, his body heavy, his lungs struggling to pump air. As his mind spun, he fell back, ejaculating across the floor and soiling his own body. Over the loud beating of his own heart, he could just about make out a command. “Return.” The command wasn’t for him. Instead, the jelly retreated out of Ash’s asshole as the order was given, making him squeal softly under the movement that would leave him finally emptied. All that remained was the naked and worn-out half-elf, covered in sticky threads of his own arousal, caught between relief and spiralling. He lay, panting, the seed that covered his face and body slowly cooling and drying. He was barely aware if time had passed before strong arms peeled him off the ground, carrying him away. “Ledger…?” Was it already time for something else? Was he going to be tormented some more, driven to another mind-numbing orgasm? Ash whimpered and reached out, his fingers finding something. A shoulder they could weakly clutch onto. “I…” “Save your tongue.” The deep voice was familiar by now. Perhaps he slipped away again. The next moment of consciousness was warmth, enveloping him. Warm water. A wet washcloth moved over Ash’s face, and he breathed against it as it cleansed him. His eyes were freed up. The sticky feeling went away. The half-elf cautiously opened his eyes to slits, then opened them further to look at Ledger. He watched silently as the man proceeded to clean his body. His throat ached, but after a few moments he whispered. “You killed Rode.” “Yes.” Ledger’s eyes glanced briefly over at his, before returning to the half-elf’s body. “Why?” “Stop asking. You really can’t figure that out?” He stared at the half-elf. “What do you think, that I want people snooping around here?” “Like me?” the thief whispered. “Are you planning to kill me?” “If you try to run away, of course I will kill you.” Those dark, cold eyes looked into Ash’s soul again. “If you do as I want, then your life has value, and you stay.” “Did I… do what you wanted?” The words stopped the mage’s cleaning for a moment, and he gave him a quizzical look. “You’re still alive right now, aren’t you?” The washcloth continued on its way then, dipping down to the half-elf’s cock to clean it, which gave him a shiver. “And… n-now what?” “You’re depleted, and a mess. You need sleep.” No more would be said. Soon, he was hoisted up out of a bathtub and dried off with towels, then lifted into Ledger’s arms again. More comfortable than hovering from cuffs, more daunting than being moved at a distance from him. He was brought into another small room, but this time his body was put down on something soft. A bed. For a few moments, his eyes followed Ledger as the man left the room, and closed the door. Then Ash let out a breath he barely realised he’d held, and settled in under sheets as his eyes drew shut. Sleep claimed him soon. -----

Shatter --------- Cara stirred with unease. She’d been here before. Why was she back? The atmosphere was as dreary now as it was then, the details coming back to her as she took them in. The sky was white. A thick disturbed veil that the sun struggled to pierce, the milky clouds shifting between light and dark. The unnatural twilight left in their wake blanketed the barren earth below, creeping across. Pale, sprawling sand was littered with debris. Sharp rocks awaited bare feet to slice; scattered and sunken lumps of cracked wood choked off what space there was for one to pass through. Stirred by forces far removed, waters languidly lapped and coiled along the cold beach. This was not a place that welcomed people. Cara remained unhurt so long as it tolerated her, but that patience, she knew, would inevitably run out. She wanted to leave. But something compelled her to retrace old steps. Perhaps a strange sense of morbid curiosity for a question that was left unanswered. Her memory of this had been locked away, steeped in a vague feeling of loss. It was only now coming back to her. But she couldn’t recall. Loss of what? Cara set in motion. Old hiking boots let her plod on along the terrain, following where her gut led. The rolling, craggy landscape extended into the distance, towards a slanted, jagged cliff leaning high over the water that had eroded it from below. Her face scrunched up under the caress of a cold breeze as she weaved between obstacles, leaving tracks with every step and trailing sand across the rocks. The still and giant stone structure waited, looming over her approach. When she reached the dim cold in its large shadow and finally stood still, her attention was drawn over to a crevice in the rock. The gap was obscured and easily overlooked from afar. It was wide enough, however, for a human body to pass through. For her body to pass through. Into the darkness that lay beyond, and perhaps… towards answers. As Cara crossed the threshold, she paused and exhaled, feeling faint. Cupping her head in her hand and sliding her fingers through her hair, she felt numb, dizzy. She was losing herself. A dull agitation was growing in her stomach and she couldn’t tell if fear was causing her to lose touch with herself… or whether she would be more afraid, if not for something dulling her senses. She was hesitant. Turning around, she looked at the sliver of light pouring in from the outside and thought about stepping back out, but couldn’t get herself to move. It was too late now. Too late for what? She didn’t know. The more she tried to think about it, the more distorted her thoughts became. Her will couldn’t pierce the fog. Turn around. Go in. Were these her thoughts? Before she knew it, her feet had begun to move her away from the outside, and clarity quickly returned. She began to feel surer, but without optimism. Confident in the coldest sense. This was not like her. But it was better than being afraid, dazed, indecisive. Right? It barely felt like her eyes were her own anymore. Cara could see the shapes of the hidden earth emerge as she ventured deeper without light. She heard sounds far beyond her ears, distant and hidden. Dripping fluid, rolling filth, skittering legs. The earth grinding against itself ceaselessly, violently. Along winding passages she went, deeper and deeper. The rock slowly tightened around her, further and further to a choking, encased, narrow tract. When she tried to hold back, panting, her body wanted to keep going. “Stop!” No. You’re fine. Keep going. You’re almost there. “Almost where?” Calm down. Find out. The narrow passage soon parted, thankfully at first, widening and widening, spectacularly. A rupture in ancient depths spread open before her, reaching beyond the bounds of what even this warped vision could discern from the dark. A chasm so wide, quiet and endless, the only immediate instinctual response was fear. That sinking feeling was not dulled, now. Her heartbeat was all Cara could hear. It was then she realized what she had lost, and what had subsequently been hidden from her until she foolishly wandered too close. A piece of herself. It had whet an appetite for more. That void was not empty. She could feel it. And it could feel her. Something lurked there.Old and patient, yet eager. Gratified to have led her all the way here and orchestrated this meeting. It had found her again. Cara felt the moment it peered into her, and in turn she could only begin to fathom her perceiver in the depth of her fleeting soul. Its gaze pierced her in an instant. That instant was enough to know her lies from her truths, for her mind to be sifted, her emotions broken down and dissected. Every single layer was peeled away and brutally stripped until nothing remained, and all that existed was its scrutiny, its will, its judgment, tearing her wide open from within - infinitely overflowing. She had no voice to scream with as she jolted awake, shuddering and slick, entangled with murky sheets that she cast off before finally gasping greedily for air, pumping her lungs full again. Her heart beat and yet it felt cold, her blood rushing while her skin remained stark pale and deathly. Cara quaked, her teeth rattling as she turned and fumbled to retrieve the drenched sheets, for lack of anything better. The only heat in her whole being, uncomfortable and throbbing, was seated smugly at the depths of her core. The rest of her body was starving and freezing, wrapping itself desperately in padded bedlinen until her dramatic breaths finally, slowly, began to draw back into a range she could control. She had never felt like this. It felt like death. It felt like something else was living inside her. And simultaneously, she sat in the small comfort of being herself alive. It almost seemed impossible that she should still have this life in her apartment, single, depressed, employed at an office. Draped in life’s soft smothering blanket of normalcy. Far away from the depths of the earth. And yet, that other place had felt so viscerally real. What it had done to her… and the loss. It was a real memory. Or was it? Exploring nature used to be one of her favorite pastimes, before responsibilities began to pile on and never really stopped. She could have been there before, but it would have been a long time ago. Her head spun, unable to discern anything with certainty. A raspy sound freed itself from her throat. Her chest rippled as she coughed, but something caught in the flow and stuck to her, thick and out of place. She coughed again, but when she inhaled it had spread out like a web and tightened the flow of her breath. She tried to hold back, strangling another cough that left her gasping before she got to her feet, grasping onto the nightstand, then the closet for support as she dragged herself from her bedroom to the bathroom, trembling. Hitting the light switch once, twice, she visited the pale image of the room that appeared in the mirror, brushing back her hair. She looked almost ghostly, awful. Her blue eyes were sunken and squinting under lifeless-looking black locks. Pulling up her camisole’s spaghetti strap as it slid down her arm, her face tensed. The urge welled up in her again to remove whatever clung to her throat, irritating it. She coughed hard, feeling movement, the web spiralling up further. Another, and it clung to the back of her tongue. Flooding the back of her mouth with saliva, she retched and spat, feeling it finally come loose and land into the sink. Cara panted, able to breathe freely again, though her body was struggling to keep upright. “Fuck…” Through blurry eyes, it looked black. Blood? The young woman wiped her forearm against her face as she sniffed, dragging the skin against her sockets. Her half-opened eyes prickled as the tiny hairs along her arm scraped away a portion of the dried and crystallized tear fluid, creating space for her rapid blinking to restore a slightly less blurred vision. If it was blood, and that would be bad, obviously... it was dry. Very dry. She frowned with apprehension, leaning closer. Some of the slimy, spread out substance rolled slowly down the bowl and drew together, coagulating into a thicker bubble, while other scattered specks rested in their respective spots. Water rushed in as her hand turned the faucet's handle, the strength of the current soon carrying the specks along in its spiral. Meeting the bubble, they collected into its mass, trembling under the pressure of the wave sailing over it. Despite deforming slightly, it clung to the porcelain surface without coming apart. Maybe it was simply too dry, but turning off the water would only allow it to harden further. It was disgusting, and she couldn’t let it deface her sink even if she was trembling with cold. Cara's thumb nudged along the edges of the hacked up mucus with agitation as she panted softly, vigorously rubbing to coerce it to loosen up, break apart, and finally disappear down the drain. Instead, the loosening shape caught on her thumb, and an elongated side swung around the joint at the base, merging with its other end into a ring. After cursing in simple frustration, Cara’s eyes widened when she realized it was shrinking. Or at the very least, it was squeezing against her flesh, tightening under her eyes, from a gentle pressure to a vice-like one, soon to the point where it felt like it was searing into her skin. As Cara let out a hoarse yelp, she tried to pry it off with her other hands, and one half finally came loose. Only to immediately attach itself to her other thumb and swing around in an impossible movement, trapping it as the ring reformed around her other thumb. Soon, the two halves of the substance began to race one another to double her punishment in a ridiculous, illogical sequence of events. She could do nothing to stop it. The young woman’s voice pulled itself together enough to cry out as she clawed and rubbed her hands together in vain, hoping the friction would loosen their grip. Instead, the inky venom pushed in against her pores, gradually slipping under her skin, squeezing itself between the layers. Shapes emerged along the canvas of her pale, trembling flesh as two dark masses seeped over towards her wrists. When she drew her hands and forearms away from fruitlessly trying to squeeze the invading substance out, Cara’s mind drifted on peaks of disbelief and horror as small dark figures began to form out of its advance in a larger formation. Pressing up just beneath the surface of her skin, the shapes’ off-puttingly icy sensation felt like the touch of fingers drawing along damp glass, leaving marks on her as they pleased. She saw symbols emerge, one after the other, beyond meaning, devoid of language, settling into a ring. A dark band around each of her quivering wrists, shackling her to their unknown designs. As she looked at them in a frozen panic, the heat in her belly grew searing. She heard a word resonate in her head, spoken without tongue. Dark, deep, and drowning her mind in a suffocating haze. The next conscious moment arrived when Cara's head impacted the edge of the porcelain sink. Her vision swung backwards as she fell, her head swimming in pain. Her body barely caught itself as she collapsed with a thud. The young woman was splayed out on the floor. Groaning, she tried to focus through her rolling, lidded eyes, attempting to roll onto her side. She realized with shock that her body wouldn’t respond. Paralyzed? No, she couldn’t be. Not now, not here. She fought back. A slow rattle pushed out from between her lips, and she rolled over. In the wake of that motion, the world was drawn into a nauseating spin. Her eyes squeezed shut as she breathed. Slowly, drowning out the throbbing agony overlaying her thoughts, she gathered herself until she could move her arms and legs and begin to push herself up. The bath tub gave her leverage, the tiled room swaying. Did her head feel wet? Her fingers dragged hurriedly through her hair, pain making her wince when she found a sore spot, but there was no blood when she withdrew her hand. But the black, tattoo-like band was there when her gaze lowered, around her wrist. She stared. Was she not awake? Was this real? It couldn’t be. The sound of the running faucet slowly but surely washed over her, drowning out her thoughts until she reared up fully. Clutching the sink to steady herself, she finally turned the water off and stood in the noise of it emptying down the drain and disappearing. All that remained was silence, and nagging ache. She had to get back to bed. It was okay, she told herself. She had a bad dream, she took a tumble, she was seeing things, her brain was sorting itself out. There was no more to it. Tomorrow, everything would be... back to normal. That was logical. The world was logical. And the adrenaline surging through her body, fighting for its survival, was what she needed now to make her way back. It felt strange, how her limbs could provide barely any sensation as she moved. Three knocks. As her cold foot landed on the bedroom floor, she stopped in her tracks to listen, grasping onto the bedroom doorway. Was that coming from the front door? Who the hell could that possibly be, in the middle of the night? The young woman stood, her gaze empty in the stillness, strands of dark hair matted to the sweat on her forehead. Just as she turned back towards the bed, three knocks sounded out again. If it was not someone at her door, it still came vaguely from that direction. The pace of the knocks was not urgent. It sounded… practiced. Like someone had been taught to knock that way. And again. Slowly, she blinked. Cara did not want to go to that door. She did not want to check. Whoever it was, they could go away. Slip a note under the door, if it was a neighbor or something. Forget it; she needed what warmth her damp sheets could still afford her, now. And so she leaned forward to close the distance and dug in, wrapping herself up. For a little bit, there was nothing. Quiet. Finally. The young woman let out a soft sigh, not making too much noise, just in case someone was listening. Why would someone be listening? Nevermind. She could do whatever she wanted, so long as she felt safe. So long as she could relax into the pillow, even if her head was still throbbing, and the pit of her stomach still searing hot. Three - more - knocks. Slower, this time. Much slower. Not louder. Deliberate. Communicating its presence. “Leave me,” she whispered, a sense of nausea coming over her. She just wanted to rest. She just wanted to live. “Leave me be, please…” What followed was a soft, metallic, distinct grinding sound. The tumblers inside the lock of her front door, sliding into position. The mechanism turning, until the door unlocked. A long, drawn out creak as her door opened slowly, as if pushed by a light but continuous breeze. Her vision slowly grew blurry as the tension in her face birthed tears and her jaw clenched. After a long, agonizing few seconds, the creaking trailed off and disappeared, leaving nothing. “W-who’s there?” Her shaky voice pierced the silence, receiving no answer. She couldn’t bring herself to speak again. This all had to be a nightmare, and yet she was wide awake. Sucking down saliva that had pooled in her mouth as she waited, Cara sat up, keeping the bedsheets wrapped around her. No sound. Maybe it had just been an auditory hallucination, but she knew couldn’t leave it. Something was up. Something had changed. The woman swallowed again, a shaky breath sliding quietly through her nostrils. Then, slowly, she left the bed. Dragging her heavy, sheet-wrapped, wobbling body past the doorframe, into the other room step by soundless step, Cara waded through the apartment until she could peer around the corner at the front door. Open. Wide open. Her lip pulsed, her eyes threatening to close. There was someone in here with her. Slowly shaking her head, she fell against the nearby wall and breathed, chest heaving. Stop. Focus. Get a weapon. Get help. Where the fuck did she leave her phone? It wasn’t on the nightstand. Purse, coat or pants pocket maybe? “Cara.” The word bore into her ear, a warped snap of consonants and sickly flow of vowels compressing into a warm, penetrating vibration against her eardrum, barely recognizable as her own name. She instinctively veered away as a scream ripped free from her tense frame, only to be muffled in the air. Nothing reverberated off the walls or ceiling. The bedsheets dropped to the ground, her feet barely avoiding them as she backed into the doorframe, head swivelling around in the dark, chest pumping. She heard that. Clear as day. Her hands hovered in front of her, to punch, to shove, to grasp at an incoming attack. The empty rooms surrounding her felt charged. Waiting. Then, she saw it. Though her eyes had adjusted to the dark again, she couldn’t see into the hallway past the open apartment door. Something blocked her view. Blurred, dark, she was staring in the face of a present absence. A negative space, occupied by… nothing. Yet it had the energy of a person. Or perhaps ‘person’ didn’t quite describe it. “Go back.” The voice behind the words was… unearthly. She inhaled dramatically, struggling to get air as she sank down. Her eyes drowned in the hazy outline, grasping for the sheets and pulling them close. The door slammed soundlessly shut behind the presence. Barely cognizable and distorted - a snarl. “Now.” Her limbs sprang into motion. Ducking away, she stumbled over the bedframe to dig herself in. Gathering as many layers around her as she could, Cara drew up her legs and hid away, buried. But it did not shield her from its gaze. A chill crept up on her as she felt it watch, drawing her into a freezing void just by knowing where she was, having her where it wanted her. As the cold surrounded and ate at her body, she began to tremble. The only heat left in her was the one shouldn’t control; dull, unnatural, and now flaring up. It did not provide comfort. She was caught between two agonies. Freezing, her body’s attempts to warm itself through clenching up rapidly became so violent that she couldn’t control her limbs anymore. The tensing of her muscles barely allowed her to breathe. It almost came as relief when the sheets were ripped away from her to remove their suffocating weight. However, the sensation of the entity leisurely crawling up over her soon took away any comfort she might have felt. Cara couldn’t see the room anymore. As it hovered over her, she was forced to stare in the absence of a face. The symbols on her wrists glowed. They responded to its presence. Her arms were slowly drawn up from her chest regardless of her efforts to control them, brought over her head and stretched apart. Shaking in the bleak ice cold that threatened to rob her of life, she clenched her teeth to stop them clattering, and do the only thing that was left. Beg. “P-please…” Her legs, not even coordinated enough to exert any force, were latched onto by what felt like tendrils, and slowly forced open. Her vision was too obscured to see anything. One last pulse from within her reformed the word, even more desperate than before. “Please!” When the void touched her, she could no longer move. Not even tremble. It leaned in closer, and she could feel herself fading. “Surrender.” No mercy. No relief from her suffering until she gave in. Only her breath and her lips were still allowed to move, because it wanted her to say it. As her body burned from the inside out, her insides felt liquid and melting. Rigid hardening had seeped from her nipples down to clash violently at the threshold, her mind reeling in the sensations between both, a toy trapped between horrible fates. "I-I s-sur-render..." When its face leaned into hers, her eyes rolled back. Her consciousness took a plunge in ice, froze solid, and cracked. Hotter and hotter the heat inside her swelled, until her being shattered and scattered out in waves, released from its torment and lost to oblivion. ---------

As many others have already pointed out, IsabellaRose is a very talented, descriptive and communicative partner, as well as a pleasure to speak to in general. Roleplaying was a joy.

I'm skelly, looking forward to roleplaying. :) I feel most comfortable roleplaying men (including femboys), but can also roleplay women (mostly fun sluts, good girls and brats). Not so much into playing futas. I'm comfortable in submissive, switch and dominant roles. Open to roleplaying opposite male and female characters, gender of the writer doesn't matter. Some of my absolute favorite aspects are: Power dynamics, humiliation and teasing to cause embarrassment or indignation, but secretly they love it Romance, affection, cuddling, sensuality, playing with sensitivity Androgyny, beastmen, monsters, tentacles, magic Cock and balls worship, blowjob, deepthroat, facefucking, anal Feel free to reach out if you enjoy the same. :) You can inquire about other stuff. Hope to have a good time here!