In the Air
Halsin wandered from one room to the next and back, wondering what to do with his sudden freedom. He had been given the run of the living quarters, and they felt enormous to him after having been confined to the bedroom for so long, only let out to accompany Mistress.
Freedom. He made an unwilling noise, growling in his throat. There was no denying this felt like it, pale imitation that it was. Stepping up to one of the high windows of the library, he looked out over the sprawling mansion and the city beyond its walls. Halsin was as far from freedom as he had ever been, and he hated how pathetically grateful he was for being allowed into another room. He had to take care not to lose sight of his goal.
Shifting on his feet, he resisted the urge to try and adjust the heavy cage encasing his cock. Mistress had put it on him, chatting about how she and her consort would be travelling for a few days. The man had lounged on a chair and watched, frowning at Halsin. Tarlyn barely tolerated his presence at the best of times, and Halsin dreaded encountering him without Mistress around.
"You mustn't pine for us. You can go where ever you choose, except obviously beyond the main door." Slipping the metal tube over his cock, she locked the ring in place around his balls and the base of his cock that would hold it in place. "We wouldn't want anyone to take advantage of you. And we don't want you to exhaust yourself either. You will forget it's there in no time, and we will be back as soon as we can."
Halsin had seen no sense in trying to talk her out of leaving him like this. It wasn't like it was painful, or even uncomfortable. But he had certainly not forgotten that he was wearing it, jostling the unfamiliar weight with every step. Still, it was well worth being able to sit down on a windowsill with a book and read, no one around to demand his attention, and to eat at a table with no one staring at him as if he was a creature performing a clever trick.
He was reluctant to let the day end, but eventually he grew too tired to concentrate on his reading. And he would have another day like it, maybe even more. With that thought, Halsin settled down on a soft couch in the living room, sinking into reverie.
The scent woke him, sweet and cloying. It wasn't unlike the other incense Mistress liked to burn, but it had a different note to it underneath the sweetness. One that lay on his tongue like the taste of something spoiled, eaten unaware.
Halsin sat up to look around and when he didn't find the source, he rose and went to search the quarters. The scent was everywhere and came from nowhere. Exhaling through his nose, Halsin decided it might come from a neighbouring wing, or from the great hall downstairs. Already, he was getting used to it. After drinking a glass of water, toothachingly cold in its enchanted carafe, even the taste was gone. It was barely the break of day, or what passed for it here, and Halsin returned to the couch.
Yet more rest eluded him. A shiver of lust ran through him when he moved, nudging the cage. The arousal refused to dissipate, sitting in his belly like a hot coal. Halsin lay back with a frustrated groan. He would have thought that sex would have stayed far away from his thoughts. Trying to empty his mind, he sought for calm.
His hand strayed between his legs. The metal of the cage was warm with his own heat, and it sat snugly around him. Tugging on it did nothing, nor could he find a way to open the rings without the keys. The only thing he achieved was space in the cage growing dramatically smaller as he fondled himself. Soon, he had swollen to its limits, the head pressing painfully against the bars at the tip.
This was only making things worse. Halsin stood and headed towards the bath. At this time of night, there would be no warm water but cold suited him fine. Shedding his clothes, Halsin stepped into the basin and pulled the chain, letting water sluice over himself. It was almost as icy as the enchanted water, enough to punch the air out of him. He let it run over himself as long as he could stand it, until he started to shiver so violently that he barely could hold the chain. The cage had grown chilly against his skin, his cock soft inside of it.
His thought no longer muddled by lust and exhaustion, Halsin took a deep breath. He would sit and read a little longer and then try for at least a few hours of rest.
Grabbing a towel, Halsin started to dry himself off. He caught himself moaning when he rubbed his chest, and even a careful attempt to wipe the worst of the water off his thighs, let alone the cage, lit the ember in his groin on fire again.
Desire itching under his skin, he paced the apartment in a winding route from one room to the next and back, repeating his steps over and over. He no longer savoured his freedom, only moving for the sake of movement and trying to be mindful of every step. The moment he let his thoughts wander, they presented him with fantasies and memories, of lovers past and lovers wished for, of pleasures he had enjoyed and those he had only ever imagined. Stopping here and there to examine something that caught his eye—a painting, a statue, the view out of a window over a garden of glowing mushrooms—he grasped at every little thing that promised distraction.
Eventually, he was so tired that he could barely keep his eyes open, stumbling as he paced. Curling up on the couch and hugging a pillow to himself, Halsin went to sleep.
Waking was a slow thing. He was warm and content, idly seeking more of the pleasure that ran through him, enjoying the gentle embrace of a lover. They were soft against him, a willing partner intent on satisfying him, even though he couldn't quite remember who they were.
The dream shattered the moment Halsin opened his eyes. He was face down on the couch, the pillow pressed against his groin, sweat chilling his naked skin. Pushing himself up, he found the pillow smeared with silvery trails, another drop leaking out of the cage even as he watched.
It should have hurt, the way his cock was swollen to the limits of the cage once more. Brushing his thumb across the crossbars at the tip, Halsin touched what little of himself he could reach, shouting at the wave of painful pleasure running up his spine.
The scent of incense was back. In truth, he wasn't sure if it had ever gone away. But now, it coated his tongue and mingled with every other smell. Tossing the pillow aside, Halsin headed for the shower, stopping short when walking too fast jostled the cage. A slower pace made it worse, the pain swamped by pleasure that brought him to the edge of release but never beyond.
Showering brought even less relief than it had last night. He went soft from the sheer cold but standing under the icy water, Halsin squirmed with frustrated lust, every rivulet a caress. He didn't dare dry himself off, merely grabbed the wide pants and tunic he had discarded yesterday and pulled them on, not caring that they stuck to his skin. Maybe the chill would dampen his desire.
Food was the last thing on his mind, but Halsin made himself eat something anyway. He picked up the book he had abandoned yesterday and sat, reading about the long and winding history of the family that held him captive. It didn't take long for his body to recover from the shower, and soon Halsin was merely staring at a page without reading anything at all.
It would be easy to find his relief. The bedroom held more than enough things that would give him the kind of pleasure that he craved, no matter that he was locked away. He knew exactly where they all were, having been made to use most of them, or having them used on him. Nobody would ever know if he used them for his own purpose.
Except he himself would know.
It was bad enough that he found himself looking forward to his Mistress' attention some days, would even search it out if he thought her in the right mood. And he had gotten very good at judging that. Mistakes resulted in much worse pain than the kind she would inflict on him when he had guessed right, and there was none of the pleasure and praise.
It wouldn't have bothered him so much if he had wanted only the pleasure. That was only natural - his days held so little else. But the praise was growing into the more important part. Halsin feared for himself, finding himself hungry for a few kind words.
They weren't even kind. All of her praise held hidden barbs, poison mingled with the honey. And yet he kept swallowing it.
We don't want you to exhaust yourself either. Halsin hadn't paid much attention to her words at the time, too preoccupied with the cage she was locking around him. Now they came back to him. It was a point Mistress loved to make, with a fond smile, a disappointed frown or with a whip: how little control Halsin had over himself, growing hard at the slightest touch, begging her for his peak when he had barely earned it yet.
Halsin had thought that he was doing it only to please her. If she was pleased with him, she would want to keep him. It was the only thing he could do. Now, he was not so sure. Maybe he was weak. Maybe they had seen that in him from the start.
Here he was, properly alone for the first time in months, allowed to do what he wanted with himself for a few precious days. And the only thing on his mind, no matter how much he tried to ignore it, was pleasuring himself. In a way it was good that the cage kept him from it. It made it easier to resist the urge. But the cage also gave him the exact mixture of pain and pleasure he had come to crave, and he wanted more of it.
Halsin had never in his life been more eager to spill himself. In his own hand, rutting into the sheets, riding one of the cleverly shaped dildos Mistress kept in the dresser, he didn't care. He just wanted this to be over, to find his release and be able to think clearly again.
Dropping the book onto the windowsill, not caring that it tumbled to the floor, Halsin walked to the bedroom. He hesitated in front of the door one last moment, but the mere thought of what he would find inside was enough to draw him forward.
The drawer slid open noiselessly, the toys lined up on a soft purple fabric like precious stones. Halsin picked the one he knew would have him at his peak in the least time, deep blue glass with a texture and shape guaranteed to find his most sensitive spot. The first time Mistress had used it on him, he had spilled so fast he hadn't even had time to ask for permission.
Halsin pulled off his tunic and pants, climbing up onto the bed. Already panting, he oiled up the dildo, stroking it like he wished he could himself. He didn't waste any time holding it against his hole and letting himself sink down. With a loud moan, he rolled his hips. The toy slipped away and he pushed it back in, falling forward on one elbow, fucking himself hard and fast.
All the tension and torturous arousal that had built up in him uncoiled, whipping through his body and stunning him for long moments. The dildo slipped out of him as his hand fell away and finally, he had peace.
It lasted barely long enough for him to catch his breath. His heart was still beating fast when the need to seek his release slid under his skin again. It itched and tingled and prickled, maddening him.
Reaching between his legs, he picked the toy back up and thrust it into himself, angling it so the bulbous tip immediately pressed down on the right spot. This time, it took longer for him to find satisfaction and it was just as shortlived. The urge to do it all over again drowned out everything else in his mind, and Halsin had no more strength to fight it.
By the time he became aware that he was no longer alone, he couldn't have said how long he had been mindlessly chasing his pleasure, over and over. The sheets were a mess and he ached, exhausted and overstimulated to the point of pain.
"We shouldn't have left you alone. Poor thing, look at you." Mistress voice was soft, her touch a cool balm on Halsin's skin. He started to apologise, but she shushed him with a finger to his lips. Tarlyn was already climbing up on the bed behind him, running a finger up Halsin's spine.
Halsin shivered with need, following the pressure of the man's hand between his shoulder blades. He rested himself on his elbows, head down and ass up. There was no way he would have been able to keep the toy inside himself and he didn't even try. It fell onto the mattress with a thump, and Halsin waited for a slap or pinch or a sharp word leading to more severe punishment.
Instead, Tarlyn pushed two fingers inside of him, surprising him into a shout. He had forced so many peaks out of himself that it had left him tender, the insistent pressure inside of him almost too much to bear. Yet he rocked back into it. Anything he had done to himself, whether with the toy or his own fingers, had been a mere shadow of this.
Halsin was sure this would finally sate him. Allow him some peace.
"We will take care of you." Mistress was petting his hair, soothing him. "You do want that, don't you?"
"Please!" Turning his head, Halsin cast a glace up at Mistress. She liked it when he looked at her, had made him hold her gaze while she rode him or whipped him or as her consorts took him. She seemed pleased now as well, cupping his cheek in her hand and caressing his ear. He moved into the touch. "Please, I need it."
Mistress ran her thumb over his lips, a gesture as tender as any kiss. Then she got up and started to undo the ties of her clothes. Her white robes fell away into a careless heap on the floor, revealing blue skin the shade of the lupines growing at the Grove. Stepping closer, she nodded at Tarlyn.
His cock breached Halsin in one long, measured thrust. Tarlyn grabbed the back of his neck and gave it a possessive squeeze, giving Halsin no time to breathe through the pleasure flooding him
"Up. On your knees."
Halsin's arms barely supported him, his whole body limp with exhaustion. He pushed himself up, Tarlyn pulling him the rest of the way. Spreading his legs wider, Halsin sought for balance until Tarlyn steadied him with one arm around his chest. He moaned when Tarlyn moved, pushing deep into him after having almost slipped out. Dropping his head, he blushed at the sight of the mess he had made, the sheets covered with his seed. He wasn't even able to spill himself any more, but he hadn't been able to stop. And he wouldn't be able to stop himself now either.
Mistress lifted the cage on her palm, fitting the key into the lock. Halsin gasped for breath when it opened, finally releasing his sore cock. She tossed the cage aside and cupped him in her hand, moving his foreskin between her fingers. Despite her skilled touch, he remained limp, long past the point where his cock could follow the demands of lust.
"What did you do to yourself?" She closed her hand around him, squeezing hard enough to make Halsin whimper. "No matter. I'm sure you will be able to please us regardless."
"Yes, Mistress." Halsin knew well what would happen if he didn't. Yet the fear did nothing to make him any less eager.
He watched her arrange herself on the bed, reclining against the pile of cushions and opening her legs. One hand between her thighs, she spread herself open to his gaze, her clit flushed a dark purple already. Idly circling it with one finger, Mistress lay back with her eyes half closed.
A slap to his cock tore Halsin's attention away from her. Tarlyn ground himself against him, cruelly pinching his nipples and slapping him again, and again.
"If I wanted a hole this loose, I'd have gone to some brothel. Tighten up." There was an edge to Tarlyn's voice. He delighted in torturing Halsin, punishing him on Mistress' orders, but she seemed in a forgiving mood today. Still, he would find ways to gorge himself on Halsin's pain and misery, he always did. It was a game they played, with Halsin as their pawn.
Clenching around the cock in his ass, Halsin cried out when Tarlyn began to rut into him. He shuddered, his eyes drifting closed and his head tipping back as the pleasure soothed the maddening need coursing through him.
With no warning, Tarlyn shoved him forward. Halsin caught himself on his hands, but Tarlyn forced him further down, one hand gripping the back of Halsin's neck. Well trained as he was, Halsin knew where he was wanted: between Mistress' legs.
She carded her hand through his hair and pulled him even closer. A careful, reverent kiss to her clit made her sigh and Halsin dared to touch her, spreading her open so he could thrust his tongue inside of her while his thumb rubbed small circles on her clit. She raised her hips to meet him, a lazy smile on her lips as she looked down on him.
Tarlyn made sure with one hand on Halsin's back that he stayed in place. The other strayed between Halsin's legs, palming his cock. He held on to it as he started to fuck Halsin, at a pace and angle that made Halsin moan helplessly against his Mistress' cunt, struggling to focus on her pleasure through the haze of his own.
There was no stopping himself. His peak swept him away, shaking his whole body. If Tarlyn hadn't held him, Halsin would have curled up on his side, unable to tell pain and pleasure apart. Whatever it was, it left him weak and weary. It left him wanting.
"I'm sorry—" Halsin lifted his head to beg forgiveness for his lack of control, but Mistress pushed him back down.
"I know. You can't help yourself." Her hands in his hair turned gentle again after reminding him of his place. Halsin almost went limp with relief at her understanding.
He bowed his back, rocking into Tarlyn's thrusts in search of a satisfaction that stayed out of his reach despite his cock growing hard after all. Slipping two fingers into Mistress' cunt, he sucked on her clit and teased it with his tongue. She had taught him well, and soon he had her on the brink of her release. Behind him, Tarlyn's rhythm was falling apart but the man knew better than to allow himself the pleasure before Mistress had found hers.
She arched up, holding Halsin in place while she ground herself against him. Tarlyn pushed him even closer as he chased his peak, spilling himself the moment Mistress cried out and fell back into the pillows.
Halsin had a moment to breathe, resting his head on Mistress' thigh, gazing up at her and admiring the flush that darkened her skin to purple, her white hair glowing in contrast where it spilled over her shoulders.
"Look at him." Tarlyn pushed Halsin over on his back, thrusting two fingers inside him. Writhing on the bed in helpless pleasure, Halsin bucked his hips, gripping the sheets. He shouted when Tarlyn took him in hand and stroked him from root to tip. "He still wants more."
"Always so eager to please us." Mistress petted Halsin's cheek, tracing the line of his chin with her finger. She came to straddle him, sinking down on his cock while Tarlyn held it for her. Tarlyn reached around to idly play with Mistress' clit, watching Halsin with cold eyes over her shoulder.
She rode Halsin to her peak, and this time he managed to hold on just long enough. Soft words and praise rained down on him as they continued to use him, and he offered himself to them in gratitude. There was no release to be found for him, his body humming with need no matter what they did. By the end, he was sobbing, barely able to move, his raw cock grinding into the mattress while Tarlyn fucked him.
When it finally stopped, Halsin struggled to push himself up, to take his place at the side of the bed. A leaden stupor weighed him down. His lust had finally burned itself out, leaving only cold ashes.
"Stay." Mistress ran her hand down his spine, a featherlight touch that made him shiver and moan. She stretched out next to him, Tarlyn on his other side. Halsin wanted to thank her, for allowing him to stay and for taking care of him, but he couldn't find the words, his mind slow and muddled by fatigue. Sleep crept up on him and took him unawares.
Chapter 2