Xellos came awake slowly. He felt weightlessness ... water ... up to his neck-his neck --
-- Trapped! Going to drown! Awareness reclaimed him with a single convulsion of every muscle in his body, and he discovered with more relief than alarm that he was in fact restrained, since the cool bend of porcelain at his neck kept his head above water, and underwater the wide bands of cloth around his forearms kept him moored to the side of ... whatever type of pool he was in. The water was sumptuously warm, and someone ... someone else was...
"So, you're awake," she observed, with smile in her voice.
"... Mistress," he rasped, and let himself relax another fraction. The blindfold was still in place, but he could feel her standing next to him, in the water.
"Yes, Xellos; I'm very proud of you," she affirmed, and he felt another ounce of anxiety drain from him. "It's time for you to rest and recover for a little while, and then I'll teach you a little more ... and you won't be going back in the cold room again."
He gasped with relief, and felt her fingers on his lips before he could thank her.
"Don't speak," she said. "Drink..." He felt a cold glass rim where her fingers had been, and then there was cool fresh water ... he drank as much as he was permitted, and after the vessel was taken away he felt her hands moving over his body, under the water, kneading heat and life back into the starved, stiff muscles. The cold was leached out of him like a poison, and when the water had settled in his stomach, he felt something round and smooth on his mouth --
A grape ... he took it eagerly, and heard his Mistress chuckle. Then her hands returned to the deep, slow massage underwater. His breathing slowed as he permitted himself full relaxation, and his consciousness dimmed to a haze, except when he was fed another morsel of fruit or cheese, or a mouthful of water, at his Mistress' discretion. Presently he began to feel less exhausted and more sleepy.
Zelas, I'm not going to die. Thank You, Zelas! Thank You...
He felt her moving in the water, and wondered how deep it was; he could not reach the bottom himself. A smooth thigh brushed his arm, and he felt her rough, deep strokes against the muscles of his back and sides, migrating forward to the ones over his filling stomach, and down his abdomen. Predictably, she ended at his groin, but she was very gentle when she got there -- so gentle, he woke himself up slightly, wondering if she were even touching him at all. She ... tickled, somehow, tiny featherlight strokes in perfect sync and motion with the rise and fall of the water. He squirmed experimentally, and heard her laugh. She guided his legs apart gently; he felt that, but then ... was she touching him, or not? It was a little unnerving. His organ had decided she was touching him, and he felt pressure building there. He felt -- he almost felt -- he thought he felt her fingers test the firmness of his shaft, momentarily, but then they were gone. Then there was a tantalizing flicker of sensation at the head, which might have been a fingertip or merely an eddy... It was maddening. He felt the rush of blood and familiar pang in the region which meant he was satisfactorily erect. Xellos squirmed from the ache.
I can't be close to the surface, or I'd be poking through it, he realized. Her hand squeezed his buttocks, bore up the weight of his hips. She would not let him close his thighs.
"Beautiful Xellos, beautiful," Mistress murmured. He sighed, and felt her hands very slowly leave him floating in place, then the stirring of the water as she moved through it. Where -- ?
She touched his face, smoothed his hair back from the blindfold.
"They're going to love you ... you'll be absolutely perfect," she added absently, as her fingertips traveled along his jawline, and very carefully she opened his mouth. Softness brushed his cheek, and he was offered a small wet nodule of steam-scented flesh. He closed his lips hard on the nipple, drew it in and rasped his tongue across its surface, and began to suckle with a whimper of ecstasy. He felt the woman's deep chuckle through her chest. She disengaged experimentally, drawing back to just outside his reach, and let him continue to kiss and lick at her teat before returning it to him. Underwater, he twisted his hips; he was painfully rigid, and the water could not alleviate the weight he felt on his testes, but he bore it gladly.
With the blindfold, there was no way to tell how long he spent in the water, recovering; it seemed at once too long a time, and too brief. He slept, he woke, he was fed and handled and petted. In retrospect it seemed not much longer than two or three days before his Mistress woke him with a touch and the news that it was "time to get out."
One at a time, she neatly unlaced his arms from the cloth restraints and guided them to the smooth rim of the pool, where he clung with an anxious grip. He felt her leave the water, and a moment later she bent over him and slid her hands under his shoulder blades. With one good heave, she birthed him over the smooth porcelain edge and balanced him on his hips, with her arm around his shoulders.
"Keep your legs together, Xellos," she advised. "That's it -- now turn -- "
Oh Zelas, don't let me fall, he prayed. Don't let me break my neck. Oh Zelas I don't want to die! He was tense all over with the fear of being dropped, still blindfolded and keenly aware of how slippery he still was, but before he could fall back in the water, she swept up his legs with a strong arm and swung him free. "Let go of the edge, Xellos," she coached. "Hold onto me." Tentatively and with much trembling, he forced himself to release the rim of the pool, and reached toward her voice as far as he trusted his balance. She caught his arm and latched it onto her shoulder, and with a sudden wash of security and confidence, he found himself simply sitting on the edge of the pool, holding his Mistress.
"I'm not going to drop you, Xellos; don't be so tense," she advised. "Trust me, and you'll realize you're perfectly safe," she coaxed. "Now lower your legs ... further ... further ... now, we hop -- " and with a sudden shove just above his buttocks, she nudged him forward off the edge. He fell only about ten inches and she caught him with a strong arm across his chest when he stumbled forward; then he clung to her again until his balance returned and the momentary terror faded. "See, I wouldn't let you fall," he heard her saying. "You still have a lot to learn, Xellos." And he felt her buckle the collar around his neck again.
She led him a few steps to a dry area of floor -- it felt like wood -- and put him through an effective series of postures meant to stretch and strengthen his body as she handled him, spotting faithfully with one hand and kneading, stroking, tickling with the other. He was growing quite accustomed to her touch; parts of him anticipated it eagerly, visibly --
"Very good, Xellos," he heard her smile when his member approached the state she preferred most within the first few minutes of stretching and handling. Her hand was there a moment later, testing its rigidity, improving on it. Very gently she weighed the heft of his scrotum and teased him to throbbing hardness with a few touches. He froze in place, not certain what to do.
"... Mistress . ?" he stammered hesitantly.
"Be still, Xellos; you're doing everything right," she answered, and bent him backwards until his spine cracked. "When you're properly tuned, you won't need handling to be presentable." Still holding both his arms above his head, she slid him down into a kneeling position and fastened wide leather cuffs around his wrists again, since he was quite dry by that point. "Remember the posture I taught you," she prompted, and when she released his arms he dropped them behind his back, splayed his knees until he felt the tension in his thigh muscles, and bowed his head timidly. He heard her pace a circle around him; his sense of touch, so much more acute than in his mazoku body, still amazed him with incredibly delicate sensations: the subtle flexing of the floor she walked on, the tiny hairs on his neck stirred by the wake of her passage though the air.
"Hmm. Xellos, show me your balls," she instructed, and he remembered to incline his hips (how could he have forgotten?). " -- No, I still can't see," Mistress reported, and he tipped his pelvis up further. "Now, you can do better than that. Put some effort into it!" she urged, and in desperation he pushed his thighs wider, bowed his spine out behind him and had to touch his fingertips to the floor to balance as he struggled to comply. She paced another circle.
"Much better. Balance on your toes, Xellos," she coached, and when he'd taken that little weight off his arms, she took and folded them above his shoulders, with his hands resting on the back of his neck. "This is arms-up, Xellos. Hold it -- no, just relax. Let yourself be graceful. This is arms-up; remember that. And this is arms-down." She took his hands off the back of his neck and clasped them behind him. "It's very simple and you're such a fast learner, Xellos ... now, arms-up -- "
A little tentatively, he raised his arms and folded his hands on the back of his neck.
"Very good, Xellos," she murmured, and he felt her touch the ring on his collar-attaching the lead again. Then she lifted his hands from the back of his neck and swiftly wrapped a few lengths of the leash around his wrists, binding them close to his neck, and drew him to his feet. "This way, now," she directed, leading him forward a few steps. "It's time you had another nice licking." The handle of the leash was looped over a hook or similar projection on the wall, just above his height, so that he had to keep his chin raised above his tethered wrists. He whimpered as she positioned his legs, gave his swollen genitals a final fondle.
"Oh, don't be afraid, Xellos; It's not going to be that hard," his Mistress scoffed, and he felt the strap come down across his buttocks first. "Just be glad I bound you, first." Another blow, across the thighs. She proceeded to beat him with remarkable efficiency from shoulders to knees, never striking harder than was necessary to make his skin glow with heat, and again she lectured as he gasped and flinched.
"You will only be beaten on three occasions, Xellos: the first is when your performance is less than acceptable -- you see now why it's important to keep that magnificent tool of yours at attention. The second occasion -- turn around -- " Trying not to tremble, he let himself be turned with his back toward the cool wall, and she continued the assault. "The second occasion," -- he gasped and quivered as stripes fell across his ribs -- "like now, is to make a task easier for you. A good beating will erase pride even more than fear; pride is a poison to you, Xellos, it can only do you harm, here." She kicked his legs apart and he braced himself against the wall and the leash as she began to raise welts along his thighs. The muscles in his back and buttocks quivered with the tension. "The third occasion is for the pleasure of others, because you are so beautiful, Xellos -- and it's worth a little pain to please them, isn't it?" she cooed convincingly, and Xellos gritted his teeth.
"Isn't it, Xellos?" she prompted, and hesitantly, he nodded -- and gasped again when she gathered up his testicles in one hand and pulled his hips forward again. "Yes -- and this is where you will never, ever be harmed: the most delicate part of a man. It's highly taboo to damage a slave there, virtually unforgivable."
A -- a slave? he thought, difficult though it was with an attractive woman holding his manfruits. Ah... I suppose I am... But at least --
"Now brace yourself, love," she warned him, released his balls and took hold of the head of his cock instead. Xellos had little time to panic before he felt the fine leather switch lashing the shaft of his erection again. He cried out, and his whole body jerked at the leash.
"Shhhh, be still," Mistress scolded. "If you can't behave yourself, it'll just go on longer, is that what you want?"
Xellos bit his lip and wept into the blindfold. His thighs and abdominal muscles clenched with each stinging stripe from the switch as he struggled to keep his posture. Then, suddenly as before, it was over. His skin seemed to blaze with heat, but his Mistress' hands were cool.
"There, we're done," she told him, and let him down on his knees after releasing him from the wall. She unwound the lead from his wrists, and almost automatically he tucked them behind his back in her favorite kneeling position. "Now, we're going to leave this room in a minute, Xellos, so it's time to start teaching you etiquette."
Xellos was wondering miserably why he was still blindfolded.
"You won't have realized this, but since your body is only about a week old, it has no calluses," his Mistress told him. "Your feet are as soft as your hands; they'd split open and bleed if you tried walking on them normally. In addition to that, you could injure yourself seriously if you fell from standing height, and no one wants that ... so you will be getting around on all fours."
Crawling? I have to crawl? He almost wept again.
"It distributes your weight evenly, and you won't fall," Mistress was saying. "Someday when you've had enough experience, you'll be able to walk upright with a blindfold, but that won't be for a while. Now, on all fours, Xellos," she prompted, and he went down on his hands and knees, literally too beaten to object. "And remember the second lesson, by all means; if you can't keep yourself adequately hard I'll spank you like before." He felt her hand on his buttocks, on his hair and blindfold, and then a tug on the leash. He followed tentatively, hating himself for blushing.
"Keep your head down," she said, and immediately he bent his face forward. "And it's very important that you keep up and stay as close to me as you can. I can't afford to walk slowly for your benefit." He was led forward until he felt her calf graze his head, then a rush of air as a door opened, and he could hear the murmur of foot traffic. "Here we go!"
The air of the corridor was summer-warm, and scented faintly with the outdoors. He could feel the breeze of everyone who passed them in the hall, and fought the terrible distraction, trying to focus on the tension of the lead. Zelas forbid he should cause a scene, and make Mistress angry with him... She walked so swiftly, he barely remembered to keep his head down as he scrambled to keep up. He could hear life happening in the hallways, people greeting each other and making small talk before going their ways; nothing out of the ordinary, but completely new and different to him through human senses. Mistress paused in her path, and suddenly, Xellos realized what he was missing.
I have no astral sense, it occurred to him with a shock. None ... or very little... Humans go to the astral plane to dream, right? They must have some rudimentary sense of --
Lost in his anxieties, he hadn't noticed the instant his Mistress had resumed walking, and the leash was growing taut. He started forward hastily and was dealt a sharp swat on the rear by some passer-by, who laughed when Xellos squeaked with surprise and ran face-first into the back of Mistress' leg.
"Pay attention, Xellos," she scolded, and permitted him no slack in the leash after that. He intensified his efforts to focus on her progress, blocking out all other stimuli, until she stopped sharply on the right and the draft of an opening door surprised him.
"Here we are," Mistress announced as she led him in. There was a faint sweet smell to the room, and the floor was layered with a number of deep, soft rugs, but she gave him little time to appreciate them. He was led into the room, to what he believed was the foot of a bed, from his shoulder brushing against it, and commanded to stand with a firm tug on the ring in his collar. As soon as he was unsteadily on his feet, she took hold of his right wrist, extended his arm out and up to about the height of his head (when he caught his balance), and he felt a sturdy metal cuff snap shut around the soft leather one on his forearm. She manacled his left arm in like fashion, very quickly, and by the time he realized what she was about, his arms were immobile and she was seeing to his ankles. The restraints for his legs had their own leather pads, and gave only slightly more slack. All four cuffs seemed to be secured by chain.
Alarm flared behind Xellos' wishbone, and he trembled despite himself.
"Ahh, there we go," Mistress sighed happily, grazing his length with her fingertips. She coiled the leash loosely around his neck, and reached behind his head to remove the blindfold. As she stepped back from his field of vision, he was presented with another terrible shock.
Nearly the whole room was the color of a bone, or a seashell. Before him was a dresser with a three-quarters-length vanity mirror, and behind him was a canopy bed without a canopy, but with a frame of sturdy steel, and many rings, clips, and fastening opportunities within the design. On his right was the wall with the window, and a single French door opening on a garden path; on his left was the wall with the door he'd come through, next to which was a cot against the wall, and a wardrobe almost beyond his range of sight.
What he feared worst was in the mirror. It was himself, enfleshed -- human, mortal. It was the confirmation of all he'd dreaded since his arrival.
Zelas, I'm mortal! Zelas, preserve me! he panicked inwardly, and would have squirmed away from the reflection if he could have done, but his mistress intervened quickly.
"Xellos, eyes down!" she commanded, tipping his head for him, and the terrifying vision left him. He still had to contend with the sight of his own vulnerable white flesh and grotesquely engorged organs.
Zelas, why do I have this body? What am I doing here? In this bondage, he could be eviscerated with little effort, and had no opportunity at all to prevent it. He was distracted very suddenly when Mistress slapped him in the face.
"You're going to be very calm," she told him, standing directly in the way of his reflection and holding his face by the ears. "In fact, you're going to be relieved and grateful that your mistress cares enough to chain you down. And if you insist on disobeying me further, I will beat you red as a lobster, and you will sleep where you stand, is that very clear?"
"Yes, very clear. Mistress," Xellos mumbled, wide-eyed in the face of a threat more immediate than mortality, and remarkably, she embraced him, cupping his meats carefully in one hand to provide arousal, rather than accidental consummation. He was well aware of her breasts against his ribs.
"Xellos, you are inventing all your own fears. You don't know it right now, but you are quite as safe here as you are in your mother's arms. And you know how safe it is there ... right?" she concluded, teasing his nipple with her tongue as she turned the bright corner of her eye up at him.
"Yes ... Mistress," he answered, distracted now by the sensation from his teat, forking up at his neck and shooting directly down to his groin, where pleasure was swiftly growing painful again. His mistress' free hand slipped up his back, under his shoulder, and around his neck beneath the collar. He could feel the large vein there surging under her touch, and suddenly it seemed much more pleasant to bow his head to her. Xellos sighed.
"You like being touched, don't you, Xellos."
"Yes, Mistress," he responded absently. Her occupied hand had slid up to play on his abdomen until it ceased to twitch with paranoia, then down to the purple fuzz around the broad root of his rigid member. Without realizing it, he leaned forward into her touch, and took a sharp breath when she nipped very gently with her teeth at his other teat, then kissed it flat. Her fingertip slid into the sensitive spot beneath his ear and behind the jawbone, and he felt a wave of gooseflesh sweep his back.
"And you'll do your very best for me, won't you?" she appealed, leaning still closer against the length of his body, and another bolt of pleasure shot through him as her hand wrapped around the base of his erection.
"Always, Mistress," he murmured, bending his head further down toward hers, and her hand began to slide slowly, with increasing pressure, along his hard shaft.
"That's my good boy," she said, and pulled his lips down to meet her at the same time her hand reached the head of his cock. He uttered a small whimper at the sensation, and gasped suddenly as she grasped him harder. "Hold on," his mistress warned with a tiny smirk, and began to work him in earnest. Xellos gripped the chains holding him to the bedframe as his head reeled and his hips began to rock forward into her grip. She wasn't teasing this time -- his member swelled further and grew an even deeper shade of red as she brought him closer to ... something... He was sensing a hazardous cusp, the approach of an obliterating culmination, and moaning between gasps when very suddenly she let go and pulled away.
"Now look, Xellos! See how beautiful you are-!" she commanded, and automatically he raised his head to the mirror.
He saw a gracile, purple-haired man chained up to the foot of a bed; drops of sweat gave an erotic texture to his pale skin as he writhed and trembled under the burden of the oncoming ecstasy. His organ was imposing indeed, at such a size and color he might have feared something was wrong with him at any other time, and so rigid as to indicate even the slightest motion of his hips. She had a point; he could identify with the pleasure of the sight of an attractive human bound in torment, but at the moment he didn't feel it helped his own situation much. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut as the view struck him a little harder than intended, and his pelvis continued to pump into the air of its own volition. Something was ... he felt her fingertips on the engorged head of his penis once more as some mysterious fluid welled forth, just a little, and felt her play for a moment at smoothing it beneath his foreskin and down the shaft. A choked moan broke out of him.
"There are many here who will prefer to see you just at this stage, so you ought to get used to it," Mistress warned. "But, today -- " she cut herself off by leaning up against him again and taking a determined hold on his straining member, and suddenly Xellos felt truly helpless. It seemed a slow explosion was taking place there, and although he felt unable to control the rhythmic thrusting of his own body as the wave came to a crest, it was nothing compared to the violent reflex his mistress invoked as the wave crashed. He came with a great cry, uncertain whether pain or death would accompany the delirium-colored pleasure flooding his nerves, and the next thing he knew he was hanging exhausted and dizzy in the chains with Mistress addressing him.
"Are you all right? Can you hear me?"
"Huh? ... uh," he grunted weakly.
So, that was why humans were always having sex.
"... because if you faint after coming, you might be sent to the infimary, which is no fun at all," Mistress was saying. "Although you'd hardly be the first," she added with a smile. She scrubbed his come off her hand with a handkerchief -- real semen, not the thin watery stuff his body had shed as a mazoku -- and took hold of the glands responsible for it as she leaned back up against him.
"There are still things you need to know," she told him, and proceeded to stroke the small stinging welts on his back and buttocks at the same time she massaged his scrotum, throughout her lecture. It was excruciating in almost every sense of the word. "One is that, if you come without permission, you'll be severely punished. Do you understand?"
"Y -- yes, Mistress," he nodded.
"Another is that you must be hard and ready at all times. This is very important; if your performance is required and you're not ready, again, you may face torment beyond your worst nightmares," she instructed him in a calming, matter-of-fact voice, and slid her hand up from his balls to the root of his member. "Don't look so worried -- men get a grace period after an orgasm," she smiled. "But if you come before you're wanted, you'll be punished, and if you can't harden yourself, you may be sent to the infirmary. Ah, and one last thing," she added. Xellos' heart was pounding. He knew this game, yes, entirely too well, and all was exactly as he had feared.
"You're not to use your hands," Mistress said. "Ever, for anything, unless you have a command or permission. -- Or a terrible persistent itch on your face, perhaps," she finished with a note of levity. He felt another pang in his groin as she coaxed his organ to stand at attention. His arms and shoulders trembled minutely, and his knees felt flimsy. His mistress leaned her head against him for a long moment, playing games of pain and pleasure with his skin until he squirmed ... his heart still pounded; he felt as if he should scream or cry...
"That's all I remember right now, I'm afraid," she said suddenly, lifting her head with a smile. "Is there anything else you want to know, Xellos?"
"Mistress," he began, and a considerable pause built up as he searched for the right words.
"Yes ... ?"
"I -- I ..." Finally the trembling overtook him, from his elbows to his knees, and he curled his face into his shoulder. "I'm afraid ..."
His mistress immediately let go his tender areas and embraced him closely.
"Oh, don't be, Xellos, it's pointless," she cooed. "I love you; everyone here loves you. You'll know it every time they touch you, that you're loved. There's no danger," she reaffirmed. "Do you need me to beat you again?" she asked, but the apprehension in his face gave her a better idea. "Maybe just a spanking," she grinned, and ran over to rummage through one of the dresser drawers. "Ah, here we are," she announced, pulling out what appeared to be a round, white wooden paddle about the size of a pancake. "Let's try this on." She returned to the bed and took a seat on the edge beside him, appraising his hips fore and aft before giving him an experimental smack across the buttocks. It was a much lighter and less damaging blow than with a strap, due to the spread of the impact. Mistress steadied his hips with one hand and commenced a steady spanking with the paddle.
"How do you like that, Xellos?" she smiled. "Not everything here is threats and beatings. Most of it is just play," she added. Xellos didn't know what to think, but according to what he could see in the mirror, he liked it very much. It became a particularly effective spanking when her hand crept around and between his legs, to steady him by his scrotum. She leaned a little closer. "Then there's always the classic way..." she murmured, and after dropping the paddle on the bed, she continued to spank him with her bare hand.
This, Xellos was familiar with; it was one of Zelas' oldest and more favorite methods. Presently he was gasping and blushing as his mistress chuckled and spanked, but all too soon she quit.
"Whew, that wears your arms out," she remarked. "And I think it's time we went to lunch, by now."
Chapter 3 | Fanfiction