Rough Time Combo
by
Mo
The dragon sometimes has a penchant for dramatic gestures - so he snaps his invisible fingers to get Caller's attention, and then pointedly takes away the huge hourglass he's been using to mark the time left. Caller stifles a groan.
Rhiezek has dabbled in many, many different ways of torturing Caller. He's started like this one day, or used this to finish the next time; tried sticking to just one toy, or just one part of the body; barely stimulating the flesh for endless hours or tickling him so hard and so fast that Caller starts to actually black out from a lack of oxygen within minutes. And that's not to even mention the different ways to render him helpless, the various positions and tools of bondage the dragon can use.
There are so many different methods to choose from, to suit any mood Rhiezek might be in at the moment. This time he's chosen the "rough time combo," as he calls it.
Caller is tied spread-eagle to a mattress at the moment. Each limb is stretched to its utmost without straining, and a large soft pillow prevents the human from injuring himself while thrashing around. Rhiezek doesn't always use such comprehensive restraints - he likes to rub it in how little effort it takes for him to completely overpower his human, and of course it's always amusing to watch his powerful struggles to escape. But today Caller is in for the long haul, and certain concessions have to be made.
Rhiezek is finishing up; he is tying back Caller's big toes, attaching the loose end of the cord to an area on the leg cuffs. Normally he likes to watch the feet kick and twitch and try to wiggle away, but again... a compromise is needed today. Caller will be completely motionless this time.
There, finished. He drags a finger along the bared sole and watches Caller's entire body spasm. The human yelps and glares at the stone ceiling, still attempting to be cool and aloof from it all. That won't last long.
He begins with feathers, because they seem to insult the human's dignity more than anything else. How... degrading, for an adult male to be taken down by these - but there's no ignoring them, once they've been brought out. He wants to humiliate his human with them while Caller is still sane enough to care about his dignity.
They hover over Caller's taut body, just waiting. Caller gulps nervously, can't keep his eyes off of them. Rhiezek picked them out well. Large feathers, stiff and unbending and unbearably soft at the same time. Pure white, so they look like they've come from a dream scene. Or a nightmare, one supposes. Caller's starting to panic a little. He knows what they're for. That's another thing about the feathers, vs. the gloves - gloves can do anything. They can tickle, massage, jerk him off, even hurt him if Rhiezek ever wanted to... but feathers were only used for one thing. And Caller knows very well what that is.
Finally Rhiezek drops the feathers down and begins just lightly dusting the human's body with them. Caller jerks, then starts giggling madly. Right now it's just teasing, and that's fine. There will be plenty of time for feverish delirium.
Two feathers snake their way down his arms, wiggling slightly as they reach his shaved armpits. Caller chuckles steadily and clenches his fists. Rhiezek glows with amusement as the human produces an endearing, gasping giggle and shudders bodily when the feathers skate across his belly and dip in and flick at his navel. Others zigzag across his chest, to flick lightly over both of his nipples, which make him gasp - and further down, his cock twitches a little, waking up. Rhiezek snickers to himself. If Caller is already starting to get excited, when the fun has barely started, he's going to be a real mess in a few hours. Rhiezek for the most part ignores the human's growing hard-on, though he flicks it occasionally with one of the feathers, making it jump briefly. Every time he does, Caller takes time from his chuckling to swear at the dragon. This, too, is ignored - whenever Caller starts getting too much of a thrill from the feathers caressing his balls or his cock, Rhiezek speeds up the feathers that torment his feet. Up, down, across; wiggling and dragging; in between the toes and all over the soles. Gods, but Caller hates it. The human mentions that, in fact, over several expletive-peppered minutes.
Rhiezek goes on tickling with the feathers for a good half-hour or so - he isn't keeping track of the time. He just listens for when the steady giggles start getting frantic, and watches for when the chest starts heaving a bit harder. Even at the end of that period, Caller is still in good shape... which is lucky, since it isn't over by a long shot.
The feathers withdraw, and Caller calms down, still snickering intermittently. His breath slows, and once he's recovered enough he begins his complaints, but Rhiezek doesn't want to hear them right now. A water canteen shoots over fast enough to make Caller flinch and gasp, and stammer to a stop - but it halts an inch from his face and waits there. The human relaxes slightly and scowls at it. He can't see Rhiezek so the water canteen will have to suffer his futile wrath instead.
"Look, Rhiezek. I already said I was - "
He is interrupted as the water canteen flips itself around and inserts itself into his mouth. Caller chokes briefly, then angrily starts sucking down the water. He's familiar enough with the ordeal to know he should drink while he's given the chance. When the bottle pulls itself away, he swallows and immediately tries again.
"Jackass. Listen. I apologized, what do you w-want..."
Break time is over.
Caller trails off in horror as the hard toys appear - the gloves. At least ten of them. They cruise over to where he lies, waiting unwillingly for more. They were originally made of silk, but if the runes stitched into them are any indication, they are now more lethal than they were ever intended to be. He can't read them all, but he recognizes "tangible" and "enhancing," which isn't a good sign. Several of the gloves wiggle their fingers at him menacingly.
Caller swallows again, with difficulty. "Rhiezek. Come on. You can't -"
"Can't?" The voice comes from behind him - it's the first thing the dragon has said since dragging him back here. "What is it you think I can't do, exactly?"
The human has gone pale. "Wait. I mean I AHHHhaahaaha, eeheeheeha, no fuck fuck stop it AAAAHAHAHA EEEEHEEHEEYAAHAHAHA, AHHAHAHEE..." because of course he has been interrupted yet again, this time by the gloves. This is Rhiezek's favorite part. The gloves just destroy Caller. Just... just shatter him.
But you wouldn't know it to look at him! He's laughing hard, deep belly laughs when he can suck in enough air, and hilarious high-pitched giggles otherwise. He cusses when he can, sure, makes all manner of threats to Rhiezek (not a smart thing to do), but when doesn't Caller swear and mouth off? Such a huge, happy grin on his face. He can't help it, he loves it. Or his body does, anyway.
The different places on Caller's body have such unique reactions to the tickling. Well, technically, the reactions are always the same - hysterical laughter, of course. But when he's poked and kneaded along the ribs, he jumps and jerks away like he's been startled. Stroking and wiggling along his stomach makes him shake all over and try to get away from every direction at once, since his belly is at the center of his body. Pure entertainment. When the gloves dig merrily into his armpits, he gets so angry, and Rhiezek wonders if he doesn't feel more vulnerable then. The armpits are probably the least exposed of his ticklish places, normally... his arms are usually down, and this position is unnatural for them. Perhaps that enhances his sensitivity? Rhiezek hopes so.
The feet, ah, the feet... Rhiezek pays special attention to them. Caller is so ticklish here that it's like he's stunned by it, like he can't understand what's happening, when the gloves start tickling him. They alternate slow dragging with quick, darting movements, never stopping, always tickling. Caller squirms desperately but the ropes hold. He's making the bedframe rock now, which amuses the dragon to no end.
Occasionally Rhiezek directs a spare pair of gloves to briefly tickle Caller's balls, or dance along his swollen cock - never allowing him release, of course, but keeping it alive. When he does this, Caller howls in rage and despair, and thrusts wretchedly at empty air. Rhiezek kindly distracts him by sending him cackling into the ninth circle of hell - the gloves speed up and dig into his sides, scrape along his soles, drag at his pits.
After a "while" (has it been two hours now? Three? Who knows?), Rhiezek backs off briefly. Stage three begins shortly. He mops off most of the sweat, snot, tears and drool from Caller's body. Caller is tired now, but still lively enough to jerk his face away angrily when Rhiezek pushes back his soaking wet hair.
"Well?" asks the dragon. He doesn't elaborate; doesn't have to. They both know what he's referring to. An exquisite expression crosses Caller's face: angry as always, but also worried; defiant but not daring to say so. But a few seconds pass and the human says nothing; this is his answer, then.
The dragon doesn't mind, though. "Very well," he says, and quickly stuffs a clean rag into Caller's mouth. His apprentice is startled and attempts to spit it out, but another, longer rag is tied tightly around his face, keeping it in. "No, little Caller. You had your chance to speak," Rhiezek tells him. Caller is straining at the ropes now, energy renewed by panic. Rhiezek directs his gloves to make the adjustments to the bedposts to which Caller's feet are held. The posts raise up and are re-secured: now Caller's bare feet dangle high in the air. Two cuffs, made of a smooth material, wrap around Caller's knees as well, and attach themselves to hooks that have appeared from somewhere in the low ceiling. Makeshift stirrups. Caller's ass is still on the bed, but his "junk," as he quaintly refers to them, are more exposed than ever. As is his ridiculously sensitive anus (why the hell would anyone need so many nerve endings there anyway, Rhiezek often wonders).
Rhiezek checks his human. Caller's machismo is withering away as the dragon watches. The human gapes at him, pleadingly, beginning to make a whimpering noise in the back of his throat. Rhiezek doesn't do this to him every time; it's too potent to waste.
"Now the fun begins," he says, and summons his tools to him.
He'll be using a bit from everything this time. He doesn't want Caller to get off right away, obviously, so he uses only feathers to lightly stimulate that area. One teases the rim of his anus, dipping in and around. That's almost all it takes, right there, to make Caller snap into hysterics. Another two caress his balls, which are quivering from all the laughter. And there are five on his cock - taking turns sliding up and down the shaft, tracing the head, and drifting gently across the tip. Caller is still laughing, technically, but the noises he makes are more like gasps and moans. He can't even thrust now, because of the stirrups and the hands holding his torso down to the mattress.
Two of the gloves have been heavily oiled and are lightly pinching and tweaking his nipples, making Caller squeak and hiccup. Once in a while they stop pinching and very, very gently tickle the nipples, just grazing them. Caller whines pathetically.
Oil is nearly everywhere. It's been slopped thickly onto his feet, and more gloves are finger-painting their way across the soles; Rhiezek idly draws patterns of runes for enhancing productivity, unsure if they will work on the nerve endings there. It's hard to tell at this point; all Caller can do is twitch now. Most of his thoughts are on his cock, which is starting to ooze.
More oil is poured onto his body. More runes are "drawn" on his belly, his sides, his ribs. When Rhiezek gets to the armpits, he makes a veritable pool and begins to swirl his brushes in the hollows. That provokes real laughter again, but it's weak.
He oils four more pair of gloves and sends them to Caller's legs. At first, as always, he only tickles lightly. But that's enough. Caller spasms violently, then begins bucking as he hasn't managed to in hours. Curious, Rhiezek removes the gag.
"Ohhhhahaha mmmheehee AHHAHAHAaaa.... mmmhahahaHEEHEEHA..." He's still thinking about his cock. Rhiezek drops the feathers there and just focuses on tickling him mindless again.
"W-waitwaitwait STOPAAHAHAHASTOPPITPLEASE!"
"What's this, Caller?" Rhiezek asks politely, pausing for the moment.
"P-please, Rhiezek, please," Caller whispers hoarsely. "Please. I can't, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I just can't please! Please, Rhiezek, I mean it I -"
"Please, who?" Rhiezek prompts him.
Caller closes his eyes but doesn't hesitate. "M-master. Please, Master."
Rhiezek gently mops his face. "All right. I suppose I can give you a longer break this time."
The human opens his eyes again in alarm. "Rhiez- Master. You have to - I mean, I, I need you to, please, will you take care of, of..."
"I have to do something? What, pray tell, is it that I have to do for you?"
"Fuck. Master. I mean, please, I, I wish you would, would please, f-finish me, I mean wait, no more tickling, just -"
"You're babbling, kiddo."
"Please, Master, will you please... get me off? Please, I can't stand it! I'm, I'm begging you, all right? Please!"
"Eventually? Sure."
"No! I mean," he says hastily, "Please, Master, I really can't wait, I need this so bad, I swear it won't take eight seconds, just..."
"In my own good time. Quit whining, you goddamn pussy," Rhiezek snaps.
As he had hoped, the insult snaps Caller out of his self-pity and back to anger. There are tear tracks still shining on his face as the human's eyes fairly blaze at the nearest pair of gloves - rage has given him a second wind he didn't even know he had. He hisses voicelessly: "R-rhiezek, you cocksucking s-son of a bitch, you don't even fucking underst - oh shit!" Caller catches himself with a gasp of horror that is both comical and tragic, but it's too late.
Rhiezek is as pleased as can be. Aha! Just saying what I wanted to hear, eh? A little more self-control, Caller... he fairly chortles with glee as he launches an additional six gloves at his human...
...It's been at least several more hours now, and Rhiezek reluctantly realizes that he's going to have to wrap this up soon. His human is going to pass out before too long, and Rhiezek supposes that Caller is probably ready to meet the dragon's original demand by now. He briefly removes all the fingers, feathers and brushes that he has going (he's been adding to them - there were twenty gloves, eight brushes, thirteen feathers and two pieces of silk, weaving between his toes, at the end). Caller has undoubtedly pissed himself dry by this time, and can barely summon the energy to really squeal anymore. He can't struggle at all. He just lies there, trembling, producing only a raspy, wheezing laugh. His eyes are closed, but he opens them to reveal a terrible, desperate expression - real this time - when Rhiezek slows everything down. The dragon carefully slips the gag in his mouth again and secures it - the first time Rhiezek did this to Caller, the human started trying to gnaw his own tongue off.
Rhiezek pours the heated oil onto several of the gloves and rubs it into the material. A few words are whispered, the runes flare, and... the gloves are surrounded by a softly glowing aura. Caller doesn't have the presence of mind to recognize the spell and frankly doesn't care right now. But you will care, the dragon thinks fondly.
He focuses only on the erogenous zones - nipples are tweaked again, the neck is grazed with feathers... and the gloves move down to Caller's groin.
One heavily oiled finger slips smoothly into Caller's anus, making the human gasp weakly. Another glove takes hold of the balls and gently massages them, tickling occasionally just beneath them, making Caller's entire abdomen flex with pleasure. The last two begin to work his cock.
Fingertips lightly flick the head, which helps, but the real show is the glove giving the actual hand job - this one's been so heavily oiled and enhanced that it feels... well... Caller inarticulately thinks, "gooshy." His eyes roll back. He's sweating buckets, and can't move now if his life depended on it. Up, and down, and squeeze and release...
Rhiezek stops.
A muffled cry: "Ah...!" Caller looks like he might start sobbing.
Rhiezek lifts the gag, whispers to him: "Well?"
"Master... Master Rhiezek. I will obey you, I will serve you, I will..."
"All right. That's enough." It wasn't true, anyway... give him a few days to work off the shame and he'd be right back at it. Which is fine with Rhiezek - he can't very well punish Caller if he never misbehaves, after all.
The gloves move again, faster and harder. Caller makes an indescribable noise in his throat, then starts moaning again.
"Ahhh, ahhh ah ah ah AAAAHHH!"
Cum erupts from his swollen, overworked cock and it's like ten thousand years of tension lift from his body. He's drooling freely - Rhiezek wipes it up and begins untying the ropes. The dragon checks the clock for the first time.
"My goodness, Caller! You've been here for more than ten hours! That's quite an achievement!"
Caller opens his eyes, just barely - and rolls them over to gaze at his mentor. Rhiezek has taken his human form now. It's amazing, really - but even though Caller knows that it's the same Rhiezek both times, who tortures him and who releases him, the human makes a neat separation in his mind and fears the invisible monster, and is desperately grateful to the simulated form of a man he sees before him.
Tenderly, Rhiezek lifts his apprentice in his arms and brings him over to the large bathtub he's brought in for Caller's use. He lowers the human in and begins bathing him. Caller is too tired to be embarrassed.
"I'm not actually sorry, you know," he says abruptly, whispering.
Rhiezek laughs out loud. "Yes, I did know. But maybe someday I'll teach you the difference between things you say aloud and things you keep to yourself."
"I'm sorry you tickled me," Caller continues, looking blissed out over the warm and soothing water, "but I'm not sorry I mouthed off, before. I don't know why not."
"You're saying this because you're tired and all worked up. Just stop talking, Caller... go to sleep."
It was more than a suggestion - Rhiezek places his fingers on Caller's forehead as he speaks, and the human sleeps. The dragon finishes bathing him and places Caller on his own cot, covering him with a blanket and then leaving him to rest.
Stupid, obstinate and insolent - but Caller certainly never backs down. And a good thing he doesn't, Rhiezek thinks, or he wouldn't be half as much fun.
by
Mo
Back to Human Anatomy 101 - Human Anatomy 102
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