Mind the tags. All characters are 18+.
3. Siren’s Song
There was one thing Elias was now unquestionably certain of: his Queen kept her promises.
The memory of the previous day was etched into his mind.
It had been his third day of his permanence. Fueled by his desperate hope, he had made another effort to please her. After having his breakfast – only after the Queen had finished hers, of course – he’d scrubbed himself until his skin felt raw, indulged in the fragrant oils that left him smelling like a heady mix of spices and exotic flowers. He had thoroughly cleansed his asshole and stretched his muscles until he had felt ready for every toy the Queen had in mind. Finally, with a pounding heart, he had positioned himself on the enormous bed, ass up and face down, and had waited expectedly for her like her obedient little pet.
The Queen had burst into her chambers in a flurry of silk and purpose, but at the sight of him she had halted abruptly. A single, perfectly sculpted eyebrow had arched in surprise. Her steps had slowed, measured and deliberate, as she’d approached the bed.
The tension hadn’t last long. She had grabbed him and yanked him out of the bed. She didn’t just pull him up, she had dragged him with a rough force landing him in front of the long mirror she had in her bedchambers.
“Hold on the sides,” she had commanded him and without any other word of warning, she had twisted his head to the side and slammed him into the cool surface. She had fucked him for what felt like hours against that mirror, first with her fingers and then with her dildo of choice.
Even if she wasn’t exactly able to see his expression of bliss, with his face smoked against the mirror, the Queen’s had kept her word.
By the time the last rays of sunlight had dipped below the horizon, he had spent the entire afternoon meticulouslyscrubbing his drool and precum off the reflective surface.
The independent tap-tap-tap of the blue large dildo against his cheek jolted Elias from his thoughts. His eyes flew open, meeting the Queen’s cool gaze.
“Are you here with me, pretty boy?” She inquired.
“Yes, my Queen,” he stammered, a knot of appreciation tightening in his stomach. He shifted his weight uncomfortable from one knee to the other while kneeing down.
In front of him, she sat relatively in a velvet plus armchair, her silent robe hung slightly open revealing her strap-on harness. In one hand, adorned with a stunning ring that glittered on her long finger, she had a report, its crisp edges hinting at official matters.
The other hold towards him an 8-inch-long veiny dildo.
“Then why are you not licking it as I have instructed you?” The dildo was close to his lips. “Do you think I am blind to your little daydreams, just because I am attending to matters of the realm?” Her questionhung in the air.
Elias’s gaze darted between the glistening dildo and the Queen’s unreadable expression. Without hesitation, he took it back between his lips, his tongue darting out to resume its task.
“The education of Gregor is sorely lacking.” Her words were laced with disbelief, “have you ever sucked his cock at least, or do you only enjoy women’s company?”
The tip of his tongue traced a circle around the mushroom head before answering. “Even if Master Gregor insisted on teaching me such… skills, I refused. It was my condition to join his establishment,” he explained while his licks methodically worked their way down the base of the dildo.
“My sole desire,” he continued, his voice gaining strength, “was to learn the art of dance and improve my body. And while…” he hesitated, a blush Creeping up his neck, “while I may find men attractive, My Queen, there’s only one person I truly desire.” A small, wet smack followed as he made contact with the hard ridges.
“I wanted to remain pure for you, my Queen, in every way possible,” he whispered, his voice husky. “A blank canvas for you to paint upon as you please.” He had covered every inch of the fake cock with his licks, he hoped his work was of her liking.
“My Queen, you’ve always owned me, even before you knew it,” he admitted. It was an audacious claim, bordering on insanity. He’d dared, he absolutely had. The words had tumbled out, with no control.
She perched on her plus armchair and smiled at him, enigmatic as ever. It was a smile that held secrets.
“You are enamored,” she began, her voice a silent care, “with a concept, a fantasy you’ve constructed in your mind. You cling to the idea of me, not the reality.” Her gaze, sharp and assessing, pierced through him.
Elias’s eyes widened in denial. The reality before him, this powerful, captivating woman, was far more intotoxicating than the fantasy he’d nursed for years. A desperate plea formed on his lips.
“No, My Queen,” the echo of defiance replaced by a raw vulnerability. “The reality surpasses even the wildest dreams I’ve harbored for so long,” he falsely searching for the right words. Four days had passed since he had become the Queen’s naked plaything and he was no closer to find out how to distinguish himself and impression her, than he was on that first lucky encounter. No hidden weapon lay at his disposal, no familiar face offered a lifeline. Here, he was utterly alone, defenseless against her will.
“How can I prove myself worthy?”
The truth of his heart laid bare at her feet. His gaze meeting hers was a mixture of trepidation and desperate hope, but the Queen’s eyes remained impassive. It was an unreadable star, like that one bestowed upon a particularly interesting ant. The silence stretched, each passing second an eternity.
Stupid him, he thought, a bitter taste blowing on his tongue. Stupid, poor dancer with his stupid hoes. Tears well in his eyes, threatening to spill over. Her silence was telling him he was not worthy.
He was about to crumble under the weight of her impassive star, to drop in the crushing disappointment, when finally, her voice broke the suffocating silence.
“You can start by learning how to suck my dildos,” there was a dangerous glint in her eyes as she spoke, “impress me, so I can use your drool as lube to fuck you deep and hard.”
Elias swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes, My Queen,” he rasped.
He inched impossible close and opened his mouth with his eyes closed, allowing half of the dildo past his lips. His jaw had never been so stretched and he did his best to swallow more of it down his throat.
“Knock knock”
A sharp rap on the door interrupted His efforts. Elias, his mouth still full of cock, frozen. The Queen’s head snapped towards the sound, her eyes glinting like lethal daggers. For a heart-stopping moment, itseemed she might unleash that deadly gaze on whoever unfortunate soul had dared to interrupt.
Then, with a controlled flick of her wrist, the tension dissipated. “Come in,” she commanded, her voice regaining its usual imperious tone while the door creaked open.
Elias tried to regain a sense of composition sliding the dildo out of his lips but a hand, a viper striking with unexpected speed, clamped down on his neck, anchoring him in place.
“Put it back in if you don’t want me to call all of my personal guards and let them see how I fuck your pretty mouth,” she ordered.
He did so, his back still to the door, unaware of the face of the newcomer. He saw only the Queen, her eyes now fixed on the silent figure behind him.
He caught a glimpse of a dark silhouette bowing low before straightening and approaching the Queen. Elias’s eyes darted to the symbol embroidered on the edge of their sleeve – a perfect circle, bisected by gold and blue. Curiosity immediately burned within him. He had never seen it before and wondered what it was.
A brief exchange of documents occurred, the service’s movements swift and efficient. No words were wasted. The Queen accepted the papers with a curt nod, her earlier disdain for the interruption melting away. With a dismissive sound, she sent the service currying back out the door. The brief interlude was over.
She immediately discarded the previous report she had in her hand, with a careless flutter it fell to the floor, its contents forgotten. The new purchase was different. It wasn’t the smooth, off-white paper and tied with ordinary red twin used for royal matters. This one held a distinct air of importance. The paper was thick, its color was a subtle cream, imbued with an almost imperceptible golden sheen. A subtle shift in her posture, a straightening of her spine, betrayed the significance of this unexpected arrival. Her fingers danced across the new pages, devouring the information with an intensity that was a stark contrast to the disinterest she had shown before.
Then her gaze, sharp and focused, returned to Elias, his browsers furrowed in a futile attempt to decipher its contents.
“Why have you stopped again, pretty boy?” she inquired, the clatter of the new document folding on the table near her echoed in the room. “Is your interest in proving yourself already fading?”
“N-mph!” he attempted to deny, his cheats bulging with the girl of the cock. Frustration flickered in his eyes as he focused again on the budget in front of him.
A calm smile played on her lips. “You have so much potential, pretty boy,” she let out, “but you need to understand that my instructions are not suggestions.” She continued “You wanted to prove yourself and I’ve been particularly patient today,” each word dripping with icy condescension. “Perhaps excessively so…”
She grasped his ears, lifting his head until only the tip was inside his mouth. “So, if I ask you to showappreciation for the cock that will be inside you, you go on and show me how obedient your tongue is,” she caressed the hair out of his face, “and even if you can’t get it all down, surely you don’t stop to daydream or peek at something that’s not meant for your eyes.”
His lips betrayed him, trembling as he stumbled from one mistake to the next.
“Are we clear?” she asked, her voice a silken trap. He furiously nodded, with his lips still around the dildo.
“Good,” she moved her hips enough to slip the dildo out of him but keeping it a breath away from his mouth. “Then I can teach you how to be a good fake-cock sucker.”
“Open wide and take a deep breath in,” her voice dropped to a low murmur, “and now out.”
As Elias exhausted, she thrusted the entire length of her rigid dildo into his mouth, burying it as deep as it could go in his throat.
His lungs immediately burned for proper air, but she keep a firm grip on the sides of his head. When she saw his eyeswelling up with tears and the uncontrollable coough wrapping his body, she slid it out just to plume in him again. And again. And again.
“Mph-mh!” The deep strokes made him gag with every single thrust.
“Don’t fight it, pretty boy, relax your throat,” she commanded.
Oh, he tried, but he barely had time to breathe before his mouth was back to being stretched open around the girl and the ridges of the dildo. He dug his fingers into the plus carpet beneath him, knuckles turning white as he braced himself for every thrust.
His lung hurt. His jaw hurt. His mouth hurt. His fingers hurt. Her grip around his head hurt. But he never once dared to pull away.
Several tears fell out of his eyes. The Queen slightly slip out again and scooped them up to use them to cover the dildo, mixing them up with the drool that was already coating it.
She satisfiably smiled down at him and moved one of her hands to grip his nose between two elegant fingers, forcing the cock down his throat until his chin was touching her harness.
“MHHH!” he struggled against her, his face a red mess covered in his own slobber.
Then, as it had started, she harshly slipped the cock out of his mouth, leaving him cought on the floor.
“See, it is not that hard. Now get on the bed.” There was no room for questions, no opportunity for defiance.
She rose from her chair and casted off her silican robe, the luxurious fabric slippering to the floor in a silent cascade. The curve of her should flowed into the soft rise of her breast, her nipples, beautiful and hard, had all his attention. Naked power emanated from her; it was a tangible force that pressed down on Elias pushing him to obey.
He tried standing up, but ended up falling back down. His knees screamed in protest, every single muscle felt weak and overused. The restless pounding of his ass had pushed him beyond the familiar fatigue of dance. The Queen, a stark contrast to his own spent bodyy, seemed untouched by fatigue. While his body ached, she remained perpetually ready for the next fuck, no matter how many orgasms she had.
She was insatiable.
He had discovered that all the harness she owned were tailored made for her body, molded to her form and crafted specifically for her clip, feeling each thrust and making easy for her to reach her pleasure while wearing a straw-on. Yet, he still wondered how was it possible to have such stamina.
He felt like he was merely the latest offering on a never-ending feast of a Goddess.
She chuckled as shame burned his cheeks.
“Oh, you poor thing,” she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Already so exhausted?”
She slowly approached him and with the ball of her foot pushed him roughly on the carpet. Another firm push in the middle of his back sent him spraying flat, his face pressed against the soft surface. He tasted the fibers, a mixture of dust and a fear, floral perfume that clung to her.
A tap, light but firm, on his outer thighs suggested him he had to close his legs. His poor cock grinded on the floor, screaming for attention but now trapped between him and carpet.
“Push your ass up a bit… There,” she instructed, “now spread wide your asscheeks for me, pretty boy.” He reached behind himself and grabbed his ass, ready for what was to come.
“Mmmh,” the Queen loomed over him and moaned apparently at his exposed hole, “your ass looks edible from every fucking angle.”
Elias devoured the compliment from her like a starving man gulping down cool water. His parched soul craved her approval and validation.
He felt the tip of her wet dildo at his entrance and one swift push later, it was half inside of him.
“Ah!” he groaned; his drool did a poor job acting as lube. Another push and with a jolt in his gut, he realized this time will be far more painful for him.
“Open up, pretty boy, open wider!”
He tightened his own gripon his ass and tried to relax, breathing in and out. Before he could even rest his forehead on the floor, a glob of her spit hit his rim. She smeared it and with a precision thrust rammed into him.
“Ah!” His body trembled from a surge of the overwhelming sensing. His eyes fluttered closed, the chamber around him fading into a haze of pure feeling. His mind, unable to process the intensity, simply surrendered at each raw slam oh her hips.
A painful jolt ripped him out of his blissful oblivion. The Queen had gripped his hair by the roots. With a savage yank, she pulled his head back, exposing the vulnerable curve of his neck.
“I’ll fucking ruin you, pretty boy, this hole will forever year my fat cocks every time it will be empty.”
His back arched involuntarily, a gasp escaping his lips and morphed into a choked moan. She found purchase in his hair, the tight grip sending a fresh spike of pain that speared through his scalp, and rammed again and again into him, until her dildo was completely buried into him.
His cock pulsed at each push into the carpet, staining it with his leaking liquids. A choked sob escaped his throat, morphing into a whimper. If only he could cum, touch his shake just once, just one single pathetic time! But his hands remained on his ass and his cock remained trapped and unsatisfied, a testament to his utter helplessness.
Was it even personally possible to cum untouched? Was it just a cruel joke, a twisted rule she made up to taunt him?
She released his hair and with a ruleless shove, she pushed him face-first into the plus carpet. The air whooshed out of his lungs as her pace increased and his whole body rubbed harshly against the carpet.
“I know, I know,” her voice was deep with pleasure. She nearly his ear, “I know it’s torture for your little dick. Do you want me to touch it, mmh?” She reached around him, skimming the outside of hips, brushing so close to his aching shake.
“Do you want me rub it and squeeze it until every drop of cum will sprout out of it, mh?”
Elias gritted his teeth. It was maddening. The world a blurry mess through tear-filled eyes.
“I- I…” He will not break, failing wasn’t an option. “No!”
He shook his head vehemently against the plus carpet, the abrasive fibers scraping against his cheese.
“No?” Her voice was a seductive murmur. “How do you want to cum, pretty boy? Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.” Her words brushed against his ear.
It was the song of the siren, a fleeting melody means to be as alluring as dangerous.
He wanted to obey and follow her rules.
He wanted to wrap his hand around his cock and cum.
He wanted to stay forever there, prone on that floor, wrapped in that sweet age.
He wanted an end to his aches.
“I won’t cum breaking your rule, my Queen, I just-” he panted. His ragged breaths hitched in his batteryed throat.
He wanted to please.
He wanted to be hers.
He wanted to prove himself worthy.
Elias’ vision swam, the opulent room blurring at the edges.
“I want to be ruined.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to anchor himself to the fading edges of consciousness. The world tilted; blackness creeped in from the corners. This was it.
“Ruin me. Please, my Queen, ruin me.”
Leave a Reply