Fourth Day

26th day of the 9th moon, 1103 HC

Mulsae wakes Damion up by massaging his ass cheeks. Damion groans and opens his eyes. Mulsae’s face is staring back at him.

Damion closes his eyes, "What a horrible way to start the day."

"A good fuck in the morning is a great way to start the day!" Mulsae says cheerily.

Damion opens his eyes and scowls, "When it's by choice, and not a man being fucked up the ass!" He seethes. His breath quickens.

Mulsae gently caresses up Damion's spine while softly shushing, "Just relax, don't concern yourself with such things." Fury blooms across Damion's face and he tenses.

Mulsae runs his nails down his scalp. "Relax," he says softly, "You don't want to repeat what happened the other morning. You just finished healing. Don't injure yourself again."

Damion buries his face in the pillow and screams. Gods, I'm so angry. How the fuck can I relax when I'm so fucking angry.

"Think about only right here, right now with no judgment. How does the mattress feel?" Soft and silky... Mulsae moves his ministrations down to caress Damion's back.

"How do the covers feel?" Heavy and comforting. Warm. Damion unwittingly starts to release his tension.

"How do my fingers feel against your back?" Gentle, soothing, feels good...

Mulsae moves his hand down to gently caress Damion's ass cheek. "And how does this feel?" Good, it had never been massaged before, it's a new feeling.

Mulsae gets a grip on the base of the anal plug and Damion's breath hitches and immediately tenses up again. I didn't even realize I had relaxed. Mulsae stops and caresses his ass cheeks.

"Relax," Mulsae coos.

"Could you relax if this was being done to you?"

"It's not being done to me. This is your trial to endure." Mulsae says softly. Damion scowls.

You're reading my mind...

Yes.

The whole time you fuck me?

Your mind has my full attention whenever I fuck you.

What if my mind was just filled with images of me fucking you. How would you feel if you had to see that?

You're free to think whatever you want, Damion.

For everything you do to me, I am going to conjure up an image of me doing it to you.

You're free to think whatever you want.

Fine, alright. It's you laying here on your stomach with your hands bound above your head. Damion conjures up the image of himself enjoying the view of Mulsae bound and stretched across the bed. You're the one with the butt plug, and I'm the one removing it. Damion imagines pulling on the imaginary plug from imaginary Mulsae's ass. Real Mulsae gets a grip on the real plug in Damion's ass and gently pulls it out.

I then notch my rock hard cock on your hole and slam myself in! Imaginary Damion does so and imaginary Mulsae bucks up and screams out in pain.

"Is that what you want me to do to you right now, Damion?"

"... No," Damion says weakly, "Please don't..."

"Okay, what actually happens next, then?" Mulsae says softly.

Damion swallows. I pour oil down your cleft and massage it into your hole. Mulsae reaches out and grabs the oil and pours it on Damion's hole. As real Mulsae massages the oil into real Damion's hole, imaginary Damion massages imaginary Mulsae's hole.

"What's next?" Mulsae whispers in his ear.

I stretch out your hole, starting with one finger and gradually moving up to four, slowly one finger at a time. Mulsae pushes a finger into Damion while Damion imagines the same being done to imaginary Mulsae.

Mulsae works Damion's hole with one finger and moves up to two rather quickly because the anal plug has been keeping him loose. Damion imagines everything that is being done to him is what he's doing to Mulsae. Mulsae scissors his fingers and rotates them around to stretch. When it feels loose enough he adds the third finger. Then the fourth.

"What's next?" Mulsae asks again as a whisper in Damion's ear.

Damion's throat bobs as he swallows. I... I oil up my cock. Mulsae does so to himself.

"And then?"

I... I notch my cock onto your hole. Mulsae lifts himself and positions himself over Damion and places his hardened length against Damion's hole.

"Now what?" Mulsae breathes gently.

Damion's heart beats harder and faster. I don't want this, I don't want this, I don't want this. Damion's breath quickens.

Mulsae unnotches his cock and instead lowers himself and languidly ruts along the cleft of Damion's ass.

"Damion," Mulsae whispers, "What do you do to me next?"

Damion's brain is on the fritz, he can't think of anything clearly.

Mulsae gently noses along Damion's neck, "What do you dream of doing to me, Damion?"

I want to be the one fucking you.

"Imagine it. Send me the image."

Damion conjures up the image of Mulsae laying on his stomach and imaginary Damion slowly pressing himself inside Mulsae's hole. Real Mulsae notches his cock and gently presses himself inside. Gods, I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.

Don't break the image, Mulsae's voice floats in Damion's mind, add in that everything you're feeling for real is actually what you're feeling from what you're imagining doing to me.

Damion furrows his brow in concentration. He imagines that what he's feeling is the sensation of penetrating Mulsae.

Mulsae continues to slowly push inside and bottoms out. Damion is panting. Mulsae asks softly, "What do you do next?"

Damion's brain is on the fritz again, but eventually manages enough wherewithal to think, I don't know! I don't know how to properly fuck a man!

"I'll keep going, and you keep imagining, okay?" Okay...

Mulsae shallowly thrusts and Damion follows suit to imagine he's thrusting into Mulsae. The thrusts gradually increase in depth. Mulsae adjusts his angle to hit Damion's spot. He gets there quickly; he's getting familiar with how Damion's body works.

Damion groans and bucks his hips. He imagines he's fucking someone. Someone, anyone, it doesn't matter right now. He's just losing himself to fucking.

The molten pleasure grows and grows and Damion's thrusting hips become more and more fervent. He's meeting Mulsae thrust for thrust, grunting and moaning. His cares are gone as he approaches the orgasmic cliff and dives over.

Damion releases a long low moan of contentment and stills, breathing heavily. Mulsae is still thrusting. "We're not done yet," Mulsae whispers devilishly.

Mulsae bites down on Damion's shoulder -- hard -- and Damion gasps in shock. It's going to bruise and scab. Mulsae's thrusts become faster and harder. Too much, too much!

Mulsae grabs Damion's hair and pulls his head back, "You're going to take it. You're mine." No... Please... Mulsae pulls his hair harder and bites his shoulder again while increasing his speed and force.

Why!? Why do you do this? Why do you change at the end? Damion whimpers.

It feels deliciously good, Mulsae's voice floats in his head. Mulsae growls and bites down harder as he slams more viciously into Damion. Oh so deliciously good.

Damion's head is pulled painfully back and his mouth gapes open. He's constantly groaning which is punctuated by each thrust. Tears fall down his cheeks. Gods oh gods, how do I endure this?

Mulsae releases his bite and growls, "You're mine. You endure whatever I tell you to endure." Mulsae's hips start to stutter, he presses his forehead into Damion's back. "You're mine," he slams in a few more times and groans, "Mine." He collapses down onto Damion and releases his hair. "All mine," he whispers. He lays there with his full weight on Damion's back while panting.

What the fuuuuck? What the fuck is with these personality changes? Fuck!

It helps me get off, Mulsae's voice floats by.

It's fucking scary as fuck!

Mulsae sits up abruptly and yanks himself out of Damion. He smacks Damion upside the head and growls, "Fucking deal with it," then stomps off.

Fuuuuuuuuuck. Damion's brain is doing flips. He has no idea how to process anything that just happened. He gathers the wherewithal to assess his body. His scalp hurts from his hair being pulled, his shoulder hurts from being bitten, and his asshole hurts from being pounded. It's only morning. Can I get through this day like this?

Mulsae returns with the warm wet cloth and wipes up Damion's cleft and hole. It feels bruised, but at least it doesn't sting.

"This is a new anal plug. It's the next size up." Fuuuuuck. Mulsae notches it onto his hole and gradually, gently inserts it. Damion's shoulders squirm a bit while it's happening.

Damion just lays there dazed from the whirlwind of a fuck. Mulsae walks off and gets dressed.

Mulsae leads them out of his tent, and they have an uneventful trip to the latrines before entering a new tent. This one has a long table in the middle with another smaller table off to the side and several stools. The long table has several buckles attached to it. Damion recognizes it as a torture bench. What is Mulsae going to do to me?

Mulsae guides him to the table, "Bend over the table, your chest and cheek flush against it." He bends over a section free of buckles. His ass is on display to the entrance of the tent for anyone to see if they came in here.

And someone does come in. Damion flushes with humiliation.

"Sorry I'm late, Master, I was inspecting the jewelry."

Mulsae waves a hand, "There's no issue, you're barely late at all."

"I can begin whenever you're ready, Master."

"Proceed."

Damion hears the scrape of a stool come close to him and then the newcomer's knees brush against the back of his own. What the fuck is he doing inches from my ass? His flush starts to burn at the idea of someone else inspecting his body like this.

"Apologies, Master, but in order for me to have the best angle and to not have the integrity of the piercings compromised," the man clears his throat, "It would be best to remove the, um…"

"Oh yes, you're quite right." Mulsae gets a grip on the anal plug and yanks it out. Damion yelps and bucks upward at the shock and discomfort of it.

And then Damion feels it. Cum starts dribbling out of his hole, down his taint and drips off his balls. Damion buries his head in his hands and struggles to will his hole closed. But it's no use. From all the fucking, fingering, and anal plugs he can't close it any more. It feels as though his blood slows and grows heavy like concrete at the idea of him being changed to fit Mulsae's will.

"I apologize on behalf of Damion. He's still being trained as my pet and can't help the mess." Mulsae grabs a cloth and wipes up his balls and taint and around his hole. Then he pushes the cloth inside him and rotates it. Damion winces and grunts at the pain. If Mulsae wants me loose and keeps fucking cum into me, there's always going to be a mess.

"I'll begin, Master." Then warm fingers gently press at Damion’s taint, pinching and prodding like he is looking for the right angle. Then four cool pinpricks press against his skin, marking two rows on his taint.

"Is this placement satisfactory, Master?" the man asks. Oh fuck. They're piercing my fucking taint. Fuck!

"Yes, that will do."

Damion braces himself when he hears the metallic clinking of the piercer’s tools. He’d never liked sharp objects coming near him, and he definitely isn’t happy to have needles near his balls and asshole. But what can I do? If I try to get away, Mulsae will just freeze me and punish me. I just have to endure. He screws his eyes shut and presses his forehead into the table.

Damion feels the head of the needle press into the placement closest to his balls, and grunts when it pushes into his skin. Mulsae places his hand gently between Damion's wings. It seems to be for comfort. Damion can feel the needle slide through his flesh until it pushes back out where he assumes the piercer had marked the other end the piercing would exit. As a battle-hardened Emberai who is no stranger to pain, Damion still finds the sensation of the piercing extremely unpleasant. This is made worse by the fact that it is for the purpose of furthering his humiliating defeat and being marked even more as Mulsae’s pet.

The piercer leaves the needle embedded in his skin to grab the jewelry and then begins placing it. The piercer finishes placing the first piece of jewelry before pulling out the needle and proceeds with the second one placed closer to Damion’s hole. In slid another reminder. When the second piercing is placed in his taint, a small jingle sounds from behind him. What the fuck? Damion looks puzzled.

Mulsae leans in close to his ear, "Wouldn’t want to lose track of your whereabouts." He offers no other explanation.

The piercer fiddles a bit more, the faint jingling continuing. After a minute, a barely audible click of a clasp is heard and then he releases the jewelry. Damion feels the lightest tug, barely even noticeable.

"There," the piercer says, "I trust these are satisfactory to your specifications, Master?"

Mulsae acknowledges they are, and then Damion is nudged to stand up. His immortal healing kicks in and both piercings are completely healed in seconds. When he stands, however, that strange tugging becomes more apparent. When he feels a cool tickle against his inner thigh, followed by another small jingle, Damion looks down in confusion. Mulsae doesn’t stop him when he drifts his hands down to feel at his taint. The first piercing, closer to his balls, is a simple barbell. The second, the one closer to his hole, is a small ring which the piercer has attached a dainty chain to. At the end of the chain is a tiny…

A bell? Damion narrows his eyes at Mulsae. A fucking bell? Are you serious?

Mulsae smirks with dark amusement, "I did say I didn’t want to lose track of your whereabouts," he caresses down Damion's ass and jingles the bell.

I'm not a cat. Damion rolls his eyes.

"I beg to differ," Mulsae coos in his ear, "You're my pet and my prize."

Damion turns away from Mulsae only to see the piercer openly staring at his cock cage.

The piercer clears his throat and says, "I’m ready for the next pair if you are, Master. It will be best if he lays on the table."

"Damion, lay on the table, head on this side, between the buckles." Damion eyes all the restraints and gulps. He shivers once before moving to comply.

Buckles are on either side of Damion's neck and forehead as he lays there on the table, displayed like a meal for Mulsae and the piercer to consume.

The piercer approaches the table and leans over to place dots on both sides of Damion’s nipples. Right. Nipple piercings. It's what Mulsae said he wanted to do to me that first night. Hopefully, these won’t be as painful as the guiche piercings had been.

Though he’d seen a few other people sporting nipple piercings, Damion finds little comfort in this knowledge. Regardless of their social acceptability, he isn’t getting them of his own free will. And Mulsae will no doubt find some means of utilizing them for his perverted fantasies.

Once the placement is approved, the piercer places the awaiting jewelry on the table next to Damion. Already, Damion could hazard a few guesses as to what Mulsae has planned in the future. Chains would likely be involved.

When the needle slips through the first nipple, Damion grits his teeth. Alright, that wasn’t as bad as the guiche piercings; but it still fucking hurt! He tries to ignore the tug of the jewelry as it slides through and pokes out the other side. The feeling of the metal sliding through his flesh is uncomfortable as the piercer quickly rotates it to screw the ball and close the jewelry into place before he starts healing.

One down, one more to go.

The piercer repeats the same process on the other side, and Damion finds himself with pierced nipples. He shivers when Mulsae bends down to blow softly on them. Damn, they're sensitive! He feels his stomach lurch at the mischief on Mulsae’s face at his reaction. Fuck! Now the asshole knows yet another way to weaponize my body against me!

"Can you have him sit up for me, Master?" Mulsae jerks his chin to Damion and he sits up to comply. He has to be careful of that damned chain attached to his guiche piercing as he slides towards the edge. The tiny bell at the end of said chain clinks daintily and scrapes against the wood of the table underneath. He sees there is one more barbell laid out next to the piercer’s tools. He recognizes it as a tongue piercing. Fuck.

"Open your mouth and stick out your tongue." Oh gods, this is really happening. He complies. He's shaking slightly in anticipation.

The piercer pinches the tip of his tongue with one gloved hand while the other hand grabs a pair of forceps. Following Mulsae’s prompts, he clamps the forceps in the center of Damion’s tongue. Damion's heart beats harder and his skin starts to warm. After checking one last time that the placement is to the Master's satisfaction, he places the needle against his tongue.

Damion squeezes his eyes shut as he feels the needle pierce through. As soon as he feels it, he knows this will be the piercing he’ll have the hardest time ignoring. Every time he speaks, eats, drinks… or sucks Mulsae’s cock... this particular piercing will serve as his most humiliating jewelry. He’ll always be reminded of how he’ll never again feel the pleasure of a tongue nor the warm, tight heat of a hole around his cock. This piercing's only purpose is to heighten the pleasure of others from his mouth.

Again, the piercer is quick as he places the barbell through. The needle is removed, and the deed is done. Damion’s tongue heals before it can even start swelling. The newly placed metal is distracting. For a second, Damion wonders if he’ll start talking with a lisp. He can’t help wiggling his tongue around, curiosity taking over. Thankfully, he still has full functionality of the muscle. The barbell is neither too long nor too short, and it shouldn’t be too much of an adjustment, although distracting.

"Excellent," Mulsae compliments the piercer. The heated excitement in his amber eyes is almost maniacal. "He looks perfect!"

Mulsae dismisses the piercer, then turns his full attention to Damion and commands, "Stick out your tongue."

Damion does as he is told, and Mulsae lifts his hand to graze a thumb around the silver ball of the piercing. He presses down so the barbell pushes up, then slides his thumb further back toward his throat. The gesture is purely proprietary, driving the point home to Damion that his body is at Mulsae’s mercy to do with as he pleases.

He withdraws his thumb then instructs Damion to get up and turn his back toward him. The bell chimes gently as it swings with his movements and Damion shivers at each slight tug on his taint, each delicate brush of the chain against his upper and inner thighs. Mulsae’s hand pushes him forward so that he is bent over the table again like before. Mulsae pulls Damion's ass cheeks apart so he can get a good look at the guiche piercings.

Mulsae hums with contentment as he traces warm fingers over them. "Fuck, that’s so hot!" He hooks a finger through the hoop the chain is connected to and tugs gently. Damion gasps and bucks.

"Oh, we’re going to have so much fun with this," Mulsae muses.

There is a voice at the tent's entrance, announcing the arrival of another visitor.

"And there's our next appointment, now."

"Mulsae, you're ready for me?"

Damion remains bent over the table so he can't see who it is. Judging by the voice, however, it belongs to a woman. The voice is soft but carries, liquid-smooth and threaded with a quiet authority the piercer wouldn't have dared match. And what is with the familiar conversational tone? He had never heard someone call the Water Master 'Mulsae.'

"Come in, get set up."

Damion can hear a bag being set down, the contents within clinking. Cold sweat begins to collect along his back. The piercings he could take without protest. But what is this person going to do to him?

"Before I get started, do you want to double check the designs to make sure you like them?" the woman asks. Damion wonders at the ease with which she speaks to Mulsae.

Mulsae grunts in assent and Damion hears the rustle of parchments behind him. While Mulsae looks over them, Damion can feel eyes boring into his back and trailing down to his ass. While lying ass out against table in front of the piercer had been embarrassing, Damion feels even more self-conscious of his predicament with this new stranger. The piercer had barely reacted to the situation; but Damion can sense curiosity, even interest from this woman. He tries not to clench his hole in reaction. He can feel those eyes zeroing in on his ass anyway.

"Yes, these are perfect," Mulsae's approval breaks the tense silence.

With that, the mysterious woman opens her bag and sets up tools that hum with a subtle vibration Damion swears he can feel through the table.

The woman sits down behind Damion on the stool the piercer had formerly occupied. She huffs out a long sigh as she assesses the sight before him. Damion shudders as the warm breath caresses his hole. This time he can't help how his hole clenches. His face burns as he feels yet another drop of leftover cum ooze out. Fuck! How much cum had Mulsae fucked into me!

"You got a cloth I can wipe him with?" asks the stranger.

If Damion could be swallowed up by the earth, he would be begging the gods to do so right now. Mulsae tsks and hands a cloth to the stranger, who wipes Damion's rim. She seems to linger with each swipe, and once Damion is satisfactorily cleaned, she places a hand on an ass cheek with bold familiarity. Mulsae either doesn't notice or doesn't care and says nothing.

More rustling of parchments and then, "Can you hold him open for me?"

Mulsae leans over and pries Damion's cheeks apart. Damion's throat bobs as he swallows.

Parchment is pressed down the cleft of his ass. Damion's breathing grows faster. Designs on skin... am I getting tattooed?!

Yes, Mulsae's voice drifts through his mind, I decided I wanted to add my own touch of beauty to your skin.

Damion's breathing grows heavier.

Don't worry, Mulsae's voice continues, It's art, not anything embarrassing.

Damion's heart starts pounding. No! Piercings are one thing, but tattoos are actually permanent! Once healed, there is no removing them. And without knowing what designs Mulsae has planned to mark on his body, Damion's imagination begins running wild. Tattoos will further signal he belongs to Mulsae. They would likely be beautiful works of art -- Mulsae is known to have an eye for beauty. But there is absolutely no question that these tattoos are designed for humiliation.

"Please," he tries one last time to get out of this, "Mulsae, don't do this."

Mulsae just lets out a soothing shush and says, "Relax. Don't worry. It will be beautiful."

The tattooist pulls the parchment away, then wordlessly picks up her tools and Damion can hear a high-pitched whine as it turns on. Damion resigns himself to the inevitable and braces himself.

Damion knows tattoos are painful, but he isn't prepared for just how painful it actually is as the stranger's needle makes the first prick at the design around his asshole. The pain doesn’t stay local, it lances deeper, like the needle is threading something under the skin, binding the ink in place before his healing can fight it

Gods, it hurts! They'd barely begun, and yet Damion already knows this is a pain he will always remember vividly for the rest of his life. He can almost feel it crawling just beneath the skin like a slow burn that moves with every heartbeat. He presses his forehead into the table and clenches his hands so tightly his nails dig into his palms. He breathes deeply.

Damion grunts. Gods, fuck you, Mulsae, for doing this to me, you fucking halfbreed motherfucker. Mulsae doesn't respond. Fuuucckk!

The tattooist has a deft hand and clearly has been doing this for a while. It doesn't take very long before she completes what Damion feels is some swirly design that forms a donut shape around his hole. He'd have to find two mirrors to help him see how much, if any, of the tattoo peaks out between his cheeks when they weren't being spread open. It'd be just his luck if the design is still somewhat visible even when Damion is standing straight and has his legs squeezed close together.

"Great work as always, Nori! How is it possible that you made this pretty pussy even sexier?" Damion squeezes his eyes shut from embarrassment.

The tattooist, Nori, chuckles and then pulls the tattoo gun from her work to presumably clean the needle before moving on to whatever comes next. Damion is sweating from the pain. He doesn't look forward to enduring anymore of this.

"Let's get him up on the table on his stomach." Damion straightens and winces from the stinging radiating from his hole. He swings his leg up on the table and crawls onto it, stomach down and arms raised above his head.

Nori grabs an ankle and yanks it over to one of the restraints and binds it. Fuuuuuck, what are they doing to me? Nori repeats with the other leg. She moves up the table and wraps more restraints around Damion's middle and shoulder blades.

"Can you remove his cuffs?" she requests. Mulsae does so and Nori then brings his arms down the table and straps his wrists in place. Then one last restraint around his neck.

All of these restraints mean they really don't want him to move. But he doesn't want to. The only thing worse than a bad tattoo is a sloppy tattoo, and he's going to stay as still as possible so that whatever is forced upon his skin is at least executed well.

There's a rustling of parchments and then one is placed against his skin. Nori presses down on the parchment then peels it off. She repeats this process across his entire body, from the back of his shoulders, down to his elbows, down his back, over his ass, down his thighs and to his ankles.

This is extensive work, Mulsae, Damion thinks, intending for Mulsae to hear.

Mulsae moves a stool to the head of the table in front of Damion's head. "Only the best for my pet," he runs his nails across Damion's scalp and then gently straightens his hair.

Damion imagines himself covered in tattoos from his shoulders to his ankles. He's being changed. Permanently changed. He'll never see his old self ever again. They're transforming him into someone new. Someone owned and controlled by Mulsae. Hope steadily leaks away from him.

He looks up into Mulsae's eyes, "Please. Don't do this." All Mulsae does is shush soothingly and caress his hair. "Please?" he asks pathetically. But he's ignored.

The high-pitched whine starts up and Damion preps himself for the painful pricks. Fuck, this is going to take a long time. Mulsae strokes Damion's hair in a soothing matter. Nori presses the tool against Damion's skin and he winces. There is a long long road ahead of me with this pain.

"You're going to be just fine," Mulsae says. Damion groans.

Nori proceeds with her work diligently and without a word said. The entire time Mulsae stays by Damion's head caressing his head, neck and wings. Nori takes a break at regular intervals and stretches for a few minutes, then settles back down to her work.

Damion tries to keep his focus on what Mulsae is doing to him. It's pleasurable and comforting and can keep his focus away from the pain and minimize his boredom. His mind occasionally drifts to trying to accept this fate of having his body permanently changed.

After six long, grueling hours Nori puts down her tools and says, "I'm done with the back. Let's break for lunch." Damion lets out a long sigh of relief. Mulsae gets up and tells someone outside to fetch lunch. He returns to the table and unbuckles the restraints.

"Damion, get up and stretch." Damion greedily stretches as he clambers off the table. Even now, the fresh ink hums under his skin. It feels warm, almost alive, refusing to settle. With his fast healing, the skin at this point feels super tender and bruised, but foreign like it isn't his own skin. He's so stiff from being rendered still for so long. He turns around as he begins to stretch then stills suddenly.

Damion sees the tattooist. The obvious red wings immediately mark her as an Emberai, but once he clocks her face he knows exactly who it is: the Veilwalker, Eli'anori. Her outline wavers lazily, like heat off sunbaked stone. She's difficult to see clearly, yet it's unmistakable as to who she is.

"Eli'anori," Damion murmurs.

She narrows her black eyes, a thin glint of spirit sheen under the wavering blur. “Don’t you fucking dare use that name.” Her voice drifts but the bite is there, sharp enough to sting. She scoffs, slow and quiet. “I suppose I shouldn’t expect better from the Kindlepoint bully.” She blinks once, slow and unreadable, but her outline flickers like a ripple in disturbed water.

"It's a Kindlepoint reunion!" Mulsae smirks. They were at the training grounds together in the Kindlepoint Hearthhold as children.

Silence lays heavily throughout the room. No one moves.

The gloomy silence is broken by two attendants entering the tent, each with a tray of food. They're handed over to Nori and Mulsae and the attendants leave. Nori places her tray on the small table she's been using to lay her tools, and Mulsae places his on the longer table.

Mulsae drags his stool in front of his tray. "Damion, kneel here," he points in front of him. Damion kneels as instructed and winces at the intense bruising feeling on the back of his legs.

Mulsae eats a bite, then offers a bite to Damion. Damion doesn't move. He's been fed in front of strangers. He's been fed in front of a crowd and openly laughed at. But it is another thing altogether to be fed like this in front of someone he knows, someone who knows him. Damion gulps and turns red.

Eat, Damion, Mulsae's voice enters his head.

Nori knows me. How can I do this in front of her?

Figure it out, and soon. If you don't, I will jam a funnel down your throat and then have you suffocate on my cock.

Damion trembles. Gods, now Nori can see me trembling. She's seeing me completely broken.

Last chance, I won't offer again.

Fuck it, I can't get much lower than I already am. He abruptly sucks the food from the chopsticks. His face promptly scrunches up because he finds the new tongue piercing feels weird as he tries to manipulate the food in his mouth.

What's wrong? Mulsae's voice asks.

The tongue ring, it feels really weird.

You'll get used to it, Mulsae chuckles out loud.

"How's it going with him?" Nori asks.

"Wonderfully," Mulsae caresses Damion's cheek, "He's such a good boy."

Nori chuckles, "Who knew the Hearthhold bully would one day be your pet. Justly deserved, in my opinion."

"You've always had a poor opinion of Emberan culture. Damion is merely a product of that culture. But in his heart, he's a good boy just looking for a place to belong." Mulsae gestures with his chopsticks. "Give him different circumstances and I'm sure he would have been a different, better person." Nori looks at Mulsae incredulously.

Mulsae points at Nori and says,

"Who would you have become if my mother never took you in?" Nori stills.

"Who would you have been if you slept in a torn discarded tent every night for decades?" Nori clears her throat uncomfortably. Damion’s throat tightens with hers and his fingers curl where she can’t see. He can still feel the damp fabric, the bugs that squirmed through every stitch.

"Who would you have been if the only source of clothing you had was that which you won off the backs of others?" The words hit harder than he expects. Damion shifts his weight, heat crawling up his neck. Gods, he hates the truth of it. Just kneeling here, having the worst of his life all named out loud as if it still clings to him.

"I see your point, Mulsae." Nori's throat bobs as she swallows. "How is it having a pet?" obviously trying to change the topic, "How is it for you to take this time to break and train him?"

"It's quite enjoyable, but it is also quite a lot of work. I need to keep an eye on him all day and all night," Mulsae sighs, "I need to carefully plan how to work with him, to gradually push away his boundaries without pushing too far too fast. I am hopeful, though, that he'll become fully broken and it will ultimately take less work to care for him."

"But it's enjoyable?"

Mulsae snorts, "I'd call having someone to fuck whenever I want, however I want, as something quite enjoyable." Nori snickers. Damion deflates.

"But besides the sex, and despite it being a lot of work, the breaking process is a lot of fun." He smiles wistfully. "It is very satisfying to watch him bit by bit turn into puddy in my hands." Damion's flush burns along his skin.

"I get it. My work at Drenvaar can also be..." her wavering form flutters and pulls tighter to her, "... satisfying."

Mulsae smiles brightly, "Yes! You would get it."

Figures the Water Sanctum torturer would enjoy her work. They're both sadists. Which torture method would I prefer, though: Nori's or Mulsae's? I think I might prefer Nori's.

No, you wouldn't, floats across his mind in Mulsae's voice.

At least I'd get to die at the end!

Mulsae continues to feed Damion while he and Nori chat. There's more silence than chatting. The two appear to be comfortable with companionable silence.

Nori sees both of them have finished eating and says, "Time to get back to work."

"Let's give Damion a chance to stretch first."

"Sure," Nori turns to her tools and prepares them. A faint sheen drifts from the ink jars when she opens one. The jars are filled with spirit-threaded pigments that glimmer like they’re alive.

"Damion, stand and give yourself a good stretch." Damion stands and gratefully moves his body around and stretches his neck, back, and legs; he even flares his wings. He's happy to be out of the damn cuffs so he can properly stretch his arms and shoulders.

Damion stills and looks at Mulsae. "Lay on the table on your back." He climbs onto the table and lays down. As his freshly tattooed skin meets the table’s cold surface, he swears he can feel echoes of the fresh ink beneath him. It's like a hot, restless crawl that pulses with his heartbeat.

Nori tugs on his ankles to put them into the restraints then moves to the middle to wrap another restraint around his torso and chest. Finally she straps down his wrists and neck. Damion thinks these restraints are entirely unnecessary.

Nori takes a piece of paper and aligns it on Damion's skin before pressing firmly then peeling it off. Damion now understands this process is putting stencils on his skin. While Nori applies the stencils to his skin, Mulsae leans against the table by Damion's head and gently caresses and scritches Damion's hair and scalp.

Nori pulls up her stool and the high-pitched whine of the tool starts back up. The pain quickly starts, deep and penetrating to his bones like the ink is bonding to the whole of his body, not just his skin. Damion tries to breathe through it.

Mulsae pulls his stool back to Damion's head and resumes his ministrations, massaging Damion's scalp and face. Damion is grateful for the distraction. He loathes being touched any more by Mulsae, but it is a good contrast to the pain steadily spreading across his body.

Nori's tattooing slowly, but persistently stretches across Damion's body. When she reaches down to his ankles, she temporarily removes the restraints to tattoo down Damion's ankles and over the top of his feet. The lines spiral down, thin and precise, but the deeper they reach, the hotter the burn, as if the ink is burrowing for his bones.

Almost his entire body is covered in tattoos now. Damion again works to accept his new reality. He is familiar with Nori's work as she's a highly coveted tattooist, so he has high hopes the work will be attractive. Just hopefully it won't be humiliating.

After another grueling seven hours, Nori has completed her work. She removes the restraints and has Mulsae examine the work. Mulsae runs a feather-light finger across Damion's freshly tattooed skin that causes him to shiver. Every brush of Mulsae’s finger stirs the burn beneath the ink, as if the marks are alive, shifting to his will.

"You've done an amazing job," Mulsae praises. Nori grunts nonchalantly. "Seriously, no one else could've done it better." Nori remains silent while she packs up her tools.

Mulsae unbuckles the restraints. "Stand up, Damion." He moves his stiff joints and tender legs to roll off the table and stand. His whole body burns, the fresh lines feeling too raw, too stretched, like his skin might split if he moves wrong.

Damion doesn't want to look down at himself yet. Despite trying to mentally prepare himself all day, he just isn't ready to see the new reality of his body.

"You should be honored that Nori was willing to ink you," Mulsae snakes a hand down to grab an ass cheek and leans in to whisper into Damion's ear. "She is very selective about who she allows to wear her art. Say 'thank you, Nori'."

Damion grits his teeth. Thank you for non-consensually permanently altering my body?

Thank her, Mulsae narrows his eyes at Damion.

Let me at least see the damn work. Damion sighs heavily and looks down at himself. He looks down at his chest and twists his arms to see his biceps. Black lines coil over his skin in flowing arcs, curving around his body like river currents. Each line pulls tight when he flexes. The skin feels raw and hot where fresh ink meets muscle.

He lifts one leg forward and then the other. His thighs are a lattice of sweeping curves, thin hooks of ink drifting down across his legs. The skin feels tight, flushed, and each movement tugs at the fresh burn, reminding him the marks are new, living-almost.

He twists to look behind him and lifts one leg back and then the other. He catches glimpses of the swirling pattern curling down the back of his thigh, all the way to his ankles. His whole body feels like it’s wrapped in a living net, raw and stinging, too new to belong to him yet.

Damion is relieved to see that Mulsae has stayed true to his word and hasn't done anything embarrassing. Nori really has outdone herself. Despite them not being consensual, Damion admits the artwork across his skin is breathtaking. Intricate curls and swirls dance along his shoulders, chest, hips, and down his legs, perfectly balanced with just the right amount of sharp, geometric shapes. Damion notices the little blackbirds, ravens, that have been drawn to look as if they are flying.

The tattoos suggest a combination of grace and deadliness: not unlike the artist who has drawn them. Damion feels no small amount of relief that, so far, Mulsae hasn’t ruined his skin with degrading marks or words.

Damion can't see how the ring of ink surrounding his hole looks. He just hopes it isn't noticeable to anyone looking at his naked ass.

"Are they to your liking?" Nori asked, her words hesitant.

Damion looks up at her black eyes, wondering why Nori would care if he liked the tattoos. But they are beautiful, and he'd be lying if he said otherwise. So he nods, "Yes. Thank you, Nori."

Mulsae purrs with satisfaction, "Good boy. And, yes Nori, once again you've outdone yourself. I'm sure Damion here would've been happy to get them himself if it had been up to him. Right, Damion?"

Damion glares at Mulsae, but looks back at Nori and nods to her again. He doesn't miss Nori's glance down at his cock cage, nor the brief shadow of sympathy before her face smooths back into neutrality.

"Good," Nori says simply. She returns back to cleaning and packing up her tools.

Mulsae walks around Damion admiring the new tattoos, dragging his fingertips along his skin, and grabbing at dips and curves. His fresh skin prickles and burns where Mulsae’s fingers trace the lines, like the ink is shivering under his touch. Judging by the hardness in his trousers, Mulsae is quite pleased with what he sees.

Nori closes up her bag and says, "I'm off," she looks up at Mulsae, "Are we still on for dinner next week?"

"Yes, see you next week. And thanks again, Nori." Mulsae waves her off.

Mulsae makes another revolution around Damion and hums in satisfaction, "Bend over the table." Damion's heart sinks but he slowly complies and bends over the table, leaning on his elbows.

Mulsae pulls aside one of Damion's ass cheeks with one hand while he undoes his pants with the other hand. He lets out a lustful hum as he ruts his cock along the cleft of Damion's ass. Each movement burns along the freshly inked lines on his skin.

"Such a pretty pussy you now have, Damion." His heart sinks even further at being made into a hole to fuck.

Damion feels oil drip along his cleft and Mulsae works it around his hole before sticking in two fingers. Damion's head falls forward in defeat. Yet again. Yet again. Yet again. It's continuously again, and again, and again. He tries to relax his core with every exhale as he prepares himself.

Mulsae scissors his fingers and rotates them around to further stretch Damion's hole. Damion grunts in response. The new ring of ink embedded in his skin pulses along with the manipulations. Mulsae moves onto three fingers and after a few thrusts he lightly tugs on the guiche piercing eliciting a gasp from Damion.

"Good boy," Mulsae purrs. He removes his fingers and rubs his hardened length on Damion's hole. He presses in, going at a swifter pace than the usual gradual approach he's been taking. The sensations are more overwhelming at this speed so Damion can't help but let out a long groan, and collapses so his forehead hits the table with a loud thud. He digs his fingertips into the edge of the table enough to cause pain. Anything to distract himself.

Mulsae quickly seats himself and pauses for a moment while he runs his thumbs over the tattoos of Damion's lower back, humming in lustful satisfaction all the while. He pulls out half way then spreads apart Damion's ass cheeks and rubs his thumbs along the tattoo surrounding his hole.

"Fuck, I wish you could see what I'm seeing. I'm in you. In your pretty pussy enjoying your pretty tattoos." He thrusts a few times, then resumes rubbing his thumbs along the tattoo. He presses into the rim and pushes both thumbs alongside his cock. Damion starts audibly panting, a whimper with every exhale, and bangs his forehead a few times on the table. Mulsae stretches his thumbs apart and runs them around the rim.

Damion gasps, "Too much! Too much!" Mulsae hums in acknowledgement, and slowly releases his thumbs to resume running them along the tattoo. Oh thank gods he stopped that. Oh thank gods. Mulsae languidly thrusts shallowly as he admires the tattoo.

Mulsae moves his hands to Damion's hips and pushes his thumbs into his skin as he traces the tattoos with them up and along his lower back, pressing into the raw lines until the sting deepens into a slow burn that crawls up his spine.

His thrusting gradually picks up speed and his hands return to Damion's hips. He gets a firm, bruising grip and pulls Damion towards him with every thrust.

Mulsae pounds harder. The bell in the guiche piercing rings along. Damion's thighs dig into the edge of the table. His chest, with fresh nipple rings and tend skin rubs along the table top. Damion's eyes are screwed shut and jaw clenched, rubbing the tongue ring along the roof of his mouth and pressing his ear into the table so it hurts as it's pushed and pulled against the wood. His fingers dig into the edge of the table as painfully as he can. It's so overwhelming, he's barely coping. All the while, he is desperately trying to keep his core relaxed so he doesn't get hurt.

Mulsae leans forward and drops one hand onto the table as his thrusting begins to stutter. His thrusts stop while he groans. He then slowly thrusts a few more times before he lays forward onto Damion's back, breathing heavily.

With one hand still on Damion's hip holding him close, Mulsae brings the other hand up to finger Damion's hair. "Such pretty tattoos," Mulsae says quietly, "Such a pretty pussy."

Damion's brain is barely functioning. He's just working to calm down his body, paying attention to the pain in his ear receding, and the slight tug on his skin and nipple rings as he breathes against the table top. He languidly pushes and pulls the tongue ring in his mouth.

Mulsae thrusts a few more times causing Damion to wince before he slowly pulls himself out. He grabs a dry cloth and wipes himself off before wiping off Damion, who is still and just breathing deeply. The dry, rough cloth burns his skin.

Mulsae puts himself back in his pants and laces them up. He straightens out his clothes. He grabs the anal plug and gently inserts it into Damion while he hisses in response.

"Stand up."

Damion slowly pushes himself up off the table and stands. His entire body is tender. His skin feels like a foreign entity draped on his bones. His asshole is sore. He's shaky and unsteady. He just feels so overwhelmed.

Mulsae buckles the padded wrist restraints back onto Damion's wrists and covers them with the black bag to prevent him from using his hands. He then waves at Damion to follow as he exits the tent, and he stumbles to catch up with him and maintain heel position.

Mulsae leads them through the war camp, the damn bell tinkling with every step. Mulsae doesn't bother with the leash any more. It's apparently not needed. Damion doesn't know what's more humiliating: being led by a leash attached to his cock, or willingly following without a leash. He follows because he knows Mulsae would force him and punish him otherwise. But he knows people are judging him, nonetheless. People who can't grasp the hell he's been thrust into.

The jeers and taunts have been updated to reflect his new body modifications.

"Look at his ass!"

"When is the Water Master giving us a turn with that cunt of his?"

"The Water Master put a bell on him like a fucking cat!"

"Looking good with those nipple piercings, oh great Harbinger of the Flood!"

Damion tries to pay them no mind, but a flush blooms across his face and chest. He grits his teeth and looks ahead with a stony expression.

Finally they reach Mulsae's tent. Damion exhales a sigh of relief. Out of the pot, into the fire, though, Damion thinks. He's merely been shielded from the humiliation of the crowds just to be enclosed by the humiliation of what Mulsae does to him when they're alone.

Dinner on a tray is already on the table. Mulsae approaches and Damion follows and kneels without being told. The bell jingles as he plops himself down.

"Good boy," Mulsae smiles. He pulls a chair over, sits, and begins preparing the food. Damion fidgets with the tongue ring and wonders if he's going to rub a sore in the roof of his mouth with how much he's tugging and pulling on it as a coping mechanism.

Mulsae proceeds to feed Damion while he eats. A servant comes in and out of the tent to fill the tub with steaming water.

"How was today?"

Damion scowls, "Excruciating."

"You're on the other side of it now."

I thought you weren't going to cause me unnecessary pain, Damion growls.

"Oh, the piercings and tattoos were entirely necessary!" Mulsae smirks.

Right... It's completely necessary to humiliate and mark me. Damion narrows his eyes.

"It is. I'm having you face your humiliations so that you can let them go. The goal is to have you become perfectly content wherever you are, however you are."

They finish up the meal with light observations from Mulsae. He then sends Damion to kneel at the tub while he undresses.

Mulsae steps into the tub and settles himself in. His cock is already at attention. He lays his head back against the rim of the tub and fists himself.

"Those piercings," he thrusts up into his hand. "Just think of what I'm going to do with them. Just what you're going to do to me with that tongue of yours." He hums lustfully as he languidly strokes himself. Damion experiences a ghost of a gag as he thinks of using his pierced tongue on Mulsae's cock.

Mulsae sits up, "At this rate, I'll finish before we even get started tonight!" He sets right to work washing himself, then gets out and towels himself off.

Damion is instructed to sit in the tub and Mulsae soaps up his hands then massages Damion's shoulders, "Want a massage?"

"No!" Damion blurts out, "No..." he says more softly. I'm so touched out after today. I don't want any more.

"I hear you," Mulsae gets to work soaping up Damion and rinsing him off in a clinical approach. The soap drags across the fresh ink with an odd, almost oily slickness. Every swirl tugs at nerves just under the surface like the lines haven’t fully settled. When done, Mulsae has him get out of the tub and towels him off. It feels surreal, like his skin isn't his own.

Damion's hair still hasn't been washed since the first night. It's starting to get oily. Mulsae fingers the oily hair, "You can wash this tomorrow when we have access to a shower again."

"Stand by the bed." Damion complies, and Mulsae rummages within a trunk. He returns with three bundles of rope.

"Hold your arms up and out." Damion holds his arms up straight out. Mulsae takes a bundle of rope and wraps it around his chest. Damion notices the rope feels soft against his hypersensitive skin. Mulsae performs an intricate series of wraps, twists and knots and creates a simple chest harness. Damion is puzzled where this is going.

"Lay on the bed on your back." Damion lays down, and notices the chest harness has two long tails hanging down on either side. His wings are still unbound and lay limply to either side of him.

Mulsae ties his ankles together. Damion is getting concerned. Why would he want him tied up? Mulsae bends Damion's legs so his knees are raised and splayed out. He brings the tails of the rope from his ankles between his legs and ties it to the cuffs on Damion's wrists. His wrists and ankles are linked together, moving one moves the other.

Mulsae steps back to gaze at Damion's state. He's laying on his back with his wings splayed out and his legs bent and ankles almost up to his crotch and held in place by his wrists bound by padded leather cuffs. What is Mulsae planning?

Suddenly, Mulsae roughly grabs Damion's shoulders and rotates him ninety degrees so his head is hanging off the side of the bed. His skin screams in protest of the rough handling. While Damion is trying to comprehend what just happened and is happening, Mulsae pulls the ends of the rope attached to the chest harness and ties it to the frame of the bed.

"No!" Damion exclaims as he realizes Mulsae's plan. "Don't... Don't do this. Please, please, don't do this!" Damion starts struggling with the ropes.

Mulsae wordlessly grabs the last bundle of rope and crosses to the other side of the bed. He goes to grab Damion's ankles and Damion swiftly rolls aside, "No no no, please! Please don't do this!" Mulsae kneels on the bed and grabs an ankle then wraps the rope around the knotwork there.

Mulsae pulls the rope tight and Damion fights back, tugging and twisting while chanting, "No no no, please!" Mulsae keeps a firm pull on the rope and steadily pulls it tighter and tighter before tying it off onto the bed's frame.

Mulsae slowly walks around the bed with an intense eye on Damion, who has tears already flowing down his face. He's tied to the bed with his head hanging off the side. Damion has stopped chanting his pleas and watches Mulsae in turn. Once Mulsae stands above his head, Damion whispers through tears, "Please... don't... please..."

Mulsae crouches down in front of Damion's upside down face. He cups both sides of his face and runs his thumbs over Damion's lips. He forcefully sticks his thumbs into Damion's mouth, holding his mouth open with one thumb and running his other thumb up and down Damion's tongue, paying particular attention to the new tongue piercing.

"I'm going to fuck this mouth while I appreciate your pretty new tattoos," Mulsae says quietly and darkly. Damion's whole body jerks with a sob.

Mulsae takes his hands away and stands. He tucks in Damion's right wing and sits on the edge of the bed by his shoulder. He sticks two fingers into Damion's mouth and massages his tongue, fingering the piercing. Damion screws his eyes shut and weeps. Mulsae moves his fingers further into Damion's mouth and he gags.

"Swallow as I push my fingers back," Mulsae says quietly and calmly. He pushes his fingers deeper and Damion swallows which Mulsae follows by pushing even deeper. He rests his hand there for a few moments before removing his fingers completely. Damion gasps and pants.

"Please, no..." Damion says wetly through his saliva and tears.

"I know this terrifies you," Mulsae says quietly while caressing the side of Damion's face, "I'll go slowly this time. I'll keep your panic to a minimum." Mulsae turns to face Damion's legs and runs a hand up his tender thigh, "But I am, most certainly, going to thoroughly enjoy these new tattoos of yours."

He stands towering over Damion's form naked and cock at the ready. He crouches down and drags his cock down Damion's face. A whimper escapes that fuckable throat.

"Open." Fresh tears pour out of Damion's eyes and he gingerly opens his mouth. Mulsae takes the mouth brace and inserts the iron circle into Damion's mouth. He rotates it so his teeth clamp down on it and keeps his mouth braced open. He secures the straps behind his head. Damion's body wracks with another sob.

Mulsae places the tip of his cock in Damion's mouth, then turns his attention to the rest of Damion's body. He runs his hands down Damion's chest and circles his pierced nipples with his thumbs while languidly rubbing the tip of his cock against the tongue piercing. He hooks his thumbs in the nipple piercings, tugs hard and is pleased when Damion gasps.

"Swallow when I thrust in," he thrusts his cock down Damion's throat and Damion gags and swallows, his throat grasping onto Mulsae's cock and beckoning him deeper. Damion's whole body protests, kicking his feet up and bucking against the ropes. Mulsae lets out his own gasp, but pulls his cock out and returns to rubbing the tip against the piercing.

Mulsae bends down to mouth one of the pierced nipples. "Gods, Damion, I just want to relentlessly fuck that throat of yours." He can't help himself but to thrust in and cause Damion to gag. "It's so hard to resist," Mulsae pants a few moments, "Swallow me again," Mulsae slowly pushes in and Damion swallows around him, enabling Mulsae to push further. Mulsae releases a throaty groan. Damion swallows again and Mulsae pushes further still. Mulsae looks down and sees a bulge in Damion's throat. He grasps his throat just as Damion starts to twitch side to side begging to breathe. Mulsae swiftly pulls out and crouches down to be face to face with Damion, who is panting heavily.

"Gods, Damion, your throat is divine. I want to just stick my cock down your throat and leave it there." Damion shakes with sobs. Mulsae noses across Damion's face as he whispers, "Too bad suffocation is your greatest fear." He leans into his ear, "I want to suffocate you on my cock." Damion whimpers.

Mulsae pulls back and looks him in the eyes, "But I won't. As long as you're a good boy, I won't." He leans back to his ear, "But I admit I won't mind if you're a bad boy at least once so I can fuck your throat so deep you can't breathe." Damion's breath hitches.

Mulsae looks Damion in the eyes again and caresses both sides of his face. "I am going to fuck you. Slowly. I'll let you have several breaths between each thrust. When I thrust in, I want you to keep swallowing until I pull back out. Do you understand?" Damion has a terrified expression but nods dutifully.

Mulsae stands and puts his cock back into Damion's mouth. He leans across his chest and fixes his gaze on the tattoos running up his thighs. He thrusts in, Damion swallows, he thrusts further while groaning then pulls out. Damion pants. Mulsae reaches out his hand and runs his fingers from the base of the anal plug, over the piercings, over Damion's balls, and around the cock cage. He thrusts and groans as Damion swallows. He promptly pulls out.

"Gods, Damion, I just want to fuck you ruthlessly." He thrusts again while Damion swallows. Damion pants heavily when Mulsae pulls out.

He runs his hands up Damion's thigh, fingering the various shapes of the tattoos. Thrust, swallow, pull out. He repeats to the other thigh. Thrust, swallow, pull out.

Mulsae pulls out completely and crouches back down to be face to face with Damion, "It's hard to concentrate when your swallowing feels so divine."

He stands and reseats his cock in Damion's mouth. Thrust, swallow, push, swallow, push, and Mulsae pulls out with a gasp. "You are testing my self control." Mulsae starts panting himself. Damion weeps quietly to himself as tears join his saliva rolling down his face.

Mulsae pushes on Damion's shoulders so his head is on the bed and no longer dangling off the side. "Tongue my balls," Mulsae says hoarsely, then pops one ball into Damion's mouth, then stuffs in the other one as well. Damion runs his pierced tongue all around the soft tissue and slippery balls.

Mulsae begins to slowly jerk himself and moans softly while straddling Damion's head with his testicles shoved in his mouth. His strokes gradually increase in speed. "Gods, your throat, Damion," Mulsae gasps, "I just want you swallowing my cock."

Mulsae gently pulls his balls out of Damion's mouth with a wet pop, then vigorously strokes himself a few moments before aiming himself to spurt cum into and across Damion's mouth.

Mulsae crouches down to admire himself dripping down Damion's face and intermingling with his tears and saliva. He cups his face and draws his thumb over his lips, spreading the cum around.

Mulsae unbuckles the mouth brace and removes it. "Swallow for me," Mulsae whispers. Damion slowly closes his mouth, swallows and grimaces. "Good boy," he whispers. Mulsae stands and walks away.

Mulsae returns with a warm wet cloth and gently wipes up Damion's face. The warmth feels divine on his sore facial muscles. He leans into it and appreciates how soothing it is. He needs whatever reprieve he can get right now.

Mulsae unties the rope harness and his ankles from being attached to the bed, then proceeds to release his hands from being attached to his ankles.

"Sit up," Mulsae says. Damion languidly complies. Mulsae proceeds to untie the intricate knotwork surrounding his chest.

"Lay on your side," Mulsae guides Damion to lay on his left side with his head on the pillow. Mulsae sweeps Damion's hair up and off the side of his face and head then nuzzles up to the crux of his neck and shoulder, his breath gently blowing upon the back of Damion's ear.

Mulsae reaches down and gently works the anal plug free. Damion gasps when it pops out. He grabs the oil and slathers it on his hands, his cock, and Damion's hole.

Mulsae gently swirls his finger around the outside of Damion's hole. Damion whimpers. I wish there didn't have to be more. I just want to be done for the night. This has been such a long and exhausting day. I need to rest.

"I'll be gentle. This will be good," Mulsae whispers then noses behind Damion's ear while he inserts two fingers. Damion writhes slightly at the intrusion.

Mulsae gently thrusts in and out while finding the special spot. Damion has a sharp inhale and parts his lips. "Feel good?" Mulsae whispers. Damion moans his response. Just let it all happen, Damion thinks to himself, I have no choice so just enjoy what I can.

Mulsae alternates between massaging the spot and working his hole open. He gently adds a third finger. Damion moans and begins to pant. His hips are thrusting shallowly along with Mulsae's fingers.

Mulsae kisses along Damion's shoulders as he thrusts his fingers in and out. Damion enjoys the warm wetness of the kisses. He enjoys the idea of being cared for. He imagines that he's in the arms of a caring lover attending to his every desire.

Mulsae adds a fourth finger. Damion grimaces and his eyes flutter. It's a lot but it's still feeling mostly good. Damion's shallow thrusting stills and he breathes deeply through the overwhelming sensations. Mulsae kisses up his neck and behind his ear. He slowly licks up the edge of Damion's ear from the lobe to the top and Damion gasps out a low moan as his body noticeably relaxes and melts into the mattress.

"You like that?" Mulsae whispers. Damion gives a low moan as a response. Mulsae nibbles on the edge of his ear and Damion's shallow thrusts start up again.

Mulsae slowly, gently increases the depth of his hand inside Damion. It's accepted greedily. Damion is panting and moaning. He's lost imagining himself wrapped up in the concept of being within a lover's embrace.

Mulsae stops thrusting his fingers and slowly pulls them out. He wraps himself around Damion's back and lines up his cock with Damion's cleft. He ruts a few times then aligns his cock with Damion's hole. He wraps his arm around Damion's chest as he gently pushes in. Damion exhales heavily.

Mulsae slowly, gradually fully seats himself inside Damion. He readjusts as needed so he's comfortably wrapped around Damion. He tenderly caresses one of Damion's nipples while kissing along Damion's neck and behind his ear. He groans softly and Damion gasps in response. Mulsae shallowly grinds while continuing his ministrations on Damion's neck and nipples.

Damion moans as he relaxes and further melts into the mattress. He imagines he's wrapped up with a lover and enjoying every sensation and feeling safe and cared for. It's a new concept, being the one to be cared for. He's always been the one in control, the one doing the caring. And now he is wrapped up in a lover's embrace. His hips thrust and meet with Mulsae's own thrusts.

Mulsae caresses Damion's chest, brushing up against the nipple rings as he does so. His ministrations on Damion's neck turn into nibbling with occasional nips and licks.

His thrusting grows deeper and he adjusts his angle to hit Damion's prostate. Damion pants heavily and hips thrust to join with Mulsae's movements.

Damion feels he's enveloped by a lover taking care of him. Pleasure blooms everywhere around his body, even his tender skin is pleasantly tingling. He gets lost in it. The radiating pleasure of the nipple piercings, warm wetness of Mulsae's nibbling on his neck, and of course the dominating sensation of having someone thrusting inside him. He's cocooned in pleasure, safety, and comfort.

Mulsae gently runs his nails down Damion's chest and that pushes him over to orgasmic inevitability. Everything feels great. Everything is wonderful. He wants more. Needs more. He manages to softly moan out an audible, "More... faster..."

Mulsae is shocked to hear him beg out loud, but promptly complies. He thrusts faster while carefully paying attention to how Damion is writhing trying to give him everything he wants without going too far.

"Yes!" Damion gasps while turning his head into the pillow, "Harder!" he exclaims shockingly loudly. Mulsae thinks this is so hot he doesn't even consciously have to thrust harder, he's doing it. He's lost now in his own pleasure. The two of them take from each other in equal measure and each is in ecstasy because of it.

Damion's body wracks as he shatters beneath Mulsae who promptly follows. They both exhale long groans in unison as they relax and melt into each other. They're both shallowly panting.

"That was amazing, Damion," Mulsae whispers in his ear.

"Don't... Don't talk... Don't wreck it. Just let me... Just let me relax here..." Damion softly pleads. Mulsae kisses behind Damion's ear, "Okay," he whispers.

Damion melts further and further into the mattress with every exhale. He enjoys the heaviness and security of having someone wrapped around him. The pleasurable afterglow settles comfortably in his muscles like a warm weighted blanket. He focuses on just his body, and narrows his concept of the world to only that which is in his own skin. Nothing else matters. Nothing else is there. There's just the here and now and this comforting calm.

After a long while, Mulsae slowly extracts himself while kissing along Damion's neck and shoulder, lifts himself up and walks away. Damion feels the loss and cold which reflects the stark reality of his situation seeping back in. He was raped. Yet again. He has no choice what happens to his body. He's so desperate for a reprieve from this never ending strange torture Mulsae is subjecting him to that he'll pretend his rape is a lover in order to cope with his forced orgasms. Humiliation roils in his stomach and shame warms its way through his body.

Mulsae returns with the warm wet cloth and wipes down Damion's chest and up and around the cleft of his ass. As he does so he says with a grin, "I got the Harbinger of the Flood to beg for my cock."

Damion groans and buries his face in his hands. His body is practically burning up from shame.

Mulsae finishes cleaning him up then rolls Damion onto his back, pulls down his hands and looks him in the eyes as he says, "You love my cock."

Damion narrows his eyes in a scowl, "No."

"You do!" Mulsae says with a song in his tone as he pushes off the bed and walks away.

Damion pushes the palms of his hands into his eyes. Gods, what is happening to me?

Mulsae crawls onto his side of the bed but sits by Damion's legs. Damion doesn't move. He doesn't want to look at Mulsae. He doesn't want to be here. He pushes the heels of his palms harder into his eyes.

Mulsae gently traces Damion's new tattoos. He hums softly to himself as he fingers against Damion's skin. "These are beautiful," he remarks softly, primarily to himself.

The touch doesn’t sting anymore, but each pass awakens a low hum under Damion’s skin. The lines seem to gather the warmth of Mulsae’s fingertips and send it rippling deeper. Mulsae takes his time tracing every inch, his fingers dragging slowly over ink that feels almost separate from the skin beneath like a thin, heated film pressed against his flesh.

"Roll over," Mulsae says while he gives Damion's side a double tap. Damion rolls over to his stomach with his arms above his head just like how he is supposed to sleep.

Mulsae proceeds to examine and appreciate each line of tattoos that run across Damion's back side. He puts a hand on both ass cheeks and separates them to observe the anus tattoo. He runs his thumb around its shape. The skin there tingles faintly under his thumb with a deep, strange tightness, like the mark still breathes with its own quiet life. He returns to the other tattoos along Damion's thighs tracing along each line and curve.

Once he's satisfied with his careful examination, Mulsae inserts the anal plug then pulls the covers up and tucks Damion into the soft warmth. He nuzzles up to Damion, wrapping an arm and leg across him and resting his head against his arm.

"Good night, Damion," Mulsae says softly. Damion grunts his acknowledgement.

I shouldn't think about what just happened. It doesn't matter. Besides, I'm exhausted. It was such a grueling and painful day. I should just sleep... just... sleep... And the dark oblivion of sleep finds him.