wotanon | Dreamers After Dark (VII)

[There's a hiss and a soft chuckle as Hurricane clenches around him.] Hmm, should get you on truth potions more often. I love hearing you beg for everything you want. [He lens close, whispering in his ear.] Nit that I should be surprised. You love being used, and now, I can use you in so many ways. Your body is going to be getting so many cocks off at once, used like the lovely fucktoy you want to be. And I am going to use you thoroughly. If these things can cum, you're going to get each one off at least once.

[With a soft groan, he pulls his half hard cock out of Hurricane, missing the heat, but shifting back to move two tentacles in place. Each one is thinner than his own cock, but together, they're thicker than him. He slowly starts pushing the two tentacles inside, breath catching in his throat.]

[Other tentacles were moving. Two hooked under his arms with suckers, moving to his nipples to suction on, a constant, unrelenting pressure. Another around his middle, and two more near his wrists. The tentacles sift, but firm, holding him fast with a faint slick feeling, lightly pulsing.]

[Hurricane outright whimpers, when Rye pulls out of him; the pheromones, briefly eclipsed by the force of his surprise, rattle through him like a storm wind, shaking him with the force of his need, with the sudden lack]

Wh - n-no, wait - don't - don't stop, I -

[And then Rye is pressing in with the tentacles, and he gasps, softly, shifting back against them as they start to push inside. Hurricane bites down on his lip, hard, but can't suppress the whimper. His hips press him into the blunt tips of them, bearing down like he can't wait to get them inside]

Aaah, that's - jesus. Feels - feels kinda weird. But it's - g-god, it's good. I need more. I need - m-more, need you in me -

[He whimpers again, as the suckers enclose his nipples to apply that constant pressure; in his hand, his cock jolts hard, another sizeable drop of precome trickling down the shaft. Hurricane whines, softly, as the tentacles close around his wrists - starts trying to stroke himself, again, even as they settle into place]

It...it is weird. Gods, its like I have two cocks in you. Your body hugging them so nice. Fuck, you're gonna feel so good. [The tentacles push further inside, deeper and deeper, slowly, until Hurricane's body won't let him in deeper.]

[Meanwhile, yer more are making moves. The ones around his arms move up along them before pulling hard, spreading his arms straight out to each side.] Hm, not now. I don't want you distracted. I want you to feel everything I'm about to do to you.

[He settles back on the headboard, tentacles twisting Hurricane aroubd to face him. His own hand drifts to his cock, slowly, oh so slowly stroking himself. Another tentacle winds around Hurricane's legs, and snaps them together, holding fast. Yet another of the limbs then press against Hurricane's thighs from behind, slowly pushing between his thighs, starting a slow thrust betweeen his legs.]

Edited 2021-03-07 07:18 (UTC)

[Hurricane's breath catches as the tentacles inside him push deeper - stutters and then picks up again with quick, shallow breaths]

[He squirms against the intrusion - against the feeling of being so full - against the twin tendrils inside him, so much thicker than before and pressing so much deeper. When one of the appendages pulls his hand away from his erection, he outright whimpers, tugging against the hold to try and break free. His cock is a deep red by now, so hard it aches; it's slick with precome, and even now it twitches, a new drop falling free to damp the comforter beneath]

W-wait, don't - you gotta - you gotta let go of my hand. I need - I need something touching me, lemme - lemme rub off -

[When Rye maneuvers him so that they're facing each other, Hurricane whines in desperation, struggling hard against the hold of the tentacles. The sheer sight of it - of Rye stroking his own cock, slow and leisurely - feels like a bolt of lightning crashing through him, all heat and coursing electricity. His cock jerks hard, oozing new precome, the pounding pulse of need from the pheromones so sharp and insistent that he's gasping with it. He begins to squirm in earnest, now, trying to press back against the tendrils inside him or to get some friction from the one frotting between his thighs]

Rye, I - I can't - Oh my god, I need - t-touch me. Please, I need your hand. I need you to stroke me off - god, please - please -

[Rye is watching Hurricane with lidded eyes, his own breathing heavy, every twitch and squirm of the otger sending sparjs or bolts of pleasure through him. His eyes drawn to his cock as it leaks more ore when he can see him and he hums. His eyes meet Hurricane, and there's a devious look there as he grabs the lube, spreading his legs wider.]

[The tentacles in his ass settle, fully buried inside him, but no longer thrusting. They do squirm, but its only a minor friction. The one between his thighs pull back, only the head visible, and also settles. The tentacles shift Hurricane forward, bending him not quite all the way over, not letting him a chance to get more then the faintest touch of his cock to tge one between his thighs.]

Don't worry, your cock will get plenty of attention. [His fingers of his free hand, covered in lube, reaches between his own legs,pressing a finger inside with a gasp, pumping it at a sedate pace. His other hand still pumping his cock slowly.] But first, I'm gonna make sure my pretty little fucktoy gets what he wants. The chance to be used thoroughly. Your body is absolutely perfect to get off so many cocks after all. [He presses in a second finger with a hiss.]

[Two more move to his hands, pressing to his palms, the grip on his arms loosening some so he's granted some movement. Some. If he tries for his own cock, they'll tighten and pull him away. The ones on his chest start alternating, sucking hard on his nipples, before releasing him to rub against the nubs gently, before sucking hard again. More tentacles wind around his body, a slow, steady touch over him.] And. You'll get a show. Soon. [And another tentacle presents itself to Hurricane at mouth level, the new angle letting him still see Rye while his mouth is occupied.] But first, show that cock how desperate you are to be fucked. [An order with another push of pheromones.]

[Hurricane makes a strangled, wanting kind of noise as the tentacles inside him stop moving; he whines and twists against the hold of the tentacles, immediately beginning to rock back. He's fighting hard to do it - trying with all his strength to fuck himself on the tendrils resting inside him, thick and heavy and maddeningly still]

Rye - ah, jesus, please - please - I need it - I n-need it so bad. It's burning me up inside, I - f-fuck me, fill me up, lemme - lemme move -

[The whine is almost plaintive, when Rye eases first one finger into himself and then the other; Hurricane's cock, untouched, pulses harder this time, a long strand of precome dripping down toward the comforter. He begins rocking back harder now, desperate - can't not reach for his own erection, needing to take himself in hand like he needs to breathe. When the tentacles tighten and pull him away again, he outright sobs - sobs again, harder, as the want collides with the sudden intense suction against his nipples]

O-oh my god. Please, it feels like - like torture. I wanna touch you, I want you to touch me, I need - g-god it's making me crazy, and I love it, and I - nn, don't - don't listen to that, I wanna finish, please touch me, t-touch me -

[His voice breaks on the last word, trembling into silence. He takes a shaking breath in to start again, and then Rye is lifting a new tentacle to his lips]

[He mewls when the pheromones kick up a notch, fighting for all he's worth to get more, to get anything. He takes the tentacle in front of him into his mouth, eagerly - urgently - tongue rippling against the underside as he moves to swallow it down]

[With the tentacles around his legs and body, he's only able to do little more than squirm. The tentacles buried in him not even moving more than an inch despite his best attempts. Rye watching him writhe, licking his lips as the pre leaks from him.]

Gods, you look amazing like this. So utterly gorgeous. You want so bad, beg so pretty, and your cock always makes such a mess. I love making you crazy, love how much you enjoy being tortured before I fuck your brains out. Impossible for anyone to not try to get off, watching you. [He glances to the side.] Plenty certainly are. [His eyes focus on Hurricane, his hand stroking himself a little faster, fingers thrusting into himself.]

Jerk off those cocks in your hand, pet. How do you want to used like them? How do you want me to touch myself?

[He moans as Hurricane takes him in, the feeling of the tongue, how deep he's trying to take him. The tentacles on his torso loosen, enough to take him as deep as he wants.] Gods, you're getting so good at that. Soon I really could just. Just put you on your knees and. Fuck your throat in earnest. Go on. More. [He presses in a third figure with a groan.]

[The sound that leaves Hurricane's throat is a broken sort of keening noise, muffled by the tentacle still in his mouth; the tears standing at the corners of his eyes overflow at last and spill down his cheeks]

[He takes the tentacle in his mouth as far back as it will go - chokes himself going too fast - swallows, convulsively, around the bulk of it. He's trying again before he's recovered completely - whines, and coughs, and has to draw back again, too eager for his own ability]

[He can't seem to stop struggling - can't seem to stop trying to fuck himself on the tentacles impaling him, even as he flushes a dark red when Rye points out the actions of the audience. Despite the humiliation, he can't force himself to be still, no matter how little it's doing to allieviate the need flooding through him]

[There are noises around the tentacle in his mouth, by now - wordless pleas, maybe, a series of needy whimpers as he fights to get any kind of satisfaction at all]

[When Rye tells him to jerk off the tentacles he's holding, he tries to shake his head - because he needs it himself, and he aches, and the pressure is racheting up with each passing second, an imperative to touch that he has no way to satisfy. His hands are too busy straining against the hold of the tentacles to stroke them off, struggling desperately to get to his own cock as the heat from the pheromones crashes over him in waves]

[Moans leave Rye as Hurricane tries desperately to take the tentacle, the sight and feeling of him choking on the appendage shooting pleasure through him. The tentacle in his mouth leaking something very much like pre down his throat.] Fuck, you're really going for it. Gods, you feel so good, almost want to k-keep choking you like this-

[The tentacle around his torso tightens, moving up his neck to limit his movement.] But. That might hurt you. [He takes control then, pushing the tentacle slow, steady down Hurricane's throat, give him time to adjust as he pushes deeper and deeper, as deep as his body will let him go. Then stay a moment, everything so still.] Such....such a pretty sight. You look made to take so many cocks. [His hand and fingers are working a little faster now, stroking him just a bit more eager, three fingers pressing deep.]

[Then he pulls the tentacle out of his throat. Gives him a chance to breathe, before pressing in again. The tentacles still remain buried in him, still hold his hands back.] Now Hurricane. I told you. I'm gonna use you the way you want. Thoroughly and completely. Like the lovely fucktoy you are. Once you do that.... [A tentacle with suckers curl up along his navel, just a few inches ftom his cock.] Then you get your attention.

And if you don't do what I say...well, this continues. And you....you get to watch. [His fingers finally pull out of him. And a tentacle curls back, between his legs. Then slowly begins to oress in, another jeening moan leving him.]

Edited 2021-03-10 15:56 (UTC)

[Hurricane makes a soft, strangled sound around the tentacle in his throat; the muscles ripple as he swallows, and then swallows again, struggling to adjust to how deep it is. He makes another sound, choked and quiet, as he makes to move. It isn't clear whether he means to pull back or to take a more active role, but either way he can't manage, pinned too thoroughly to do more than squirm]

[He sucks a trembling breath in when Rye pulls out a little - shudders and shakes, the keening whine building to an outright wail when that tentacle curls along his navel, so close to his cock without touching. His erection is absolutely dripping by now, achingly hard and curved up toward his stomach. His cock twitches urgently against the open air; Hurricane bucks and twists, struggling with all his strength to press up into that tentacle, to get some kind of friction, some kind of anything. It's impossible not to imagine how those suckers would feel on his cock, after he's felt them on his nipples, and the wordless pleas start again, pathetic little whimpers caught at the back of his throat]

[Another hitched sob comes, as Rye starts pressing a tentacle into himself; Hurricane shakes his head, as best he can manage with such limited range of motion, squeezing his eyes shut against the agony of seeing but not feeling]

[His hands begin moving, finally, in response to that threat - stroking off the tentacles pressed to his palms. The motion is shaky and unsteady; it's awkward from the angle, the rhythm jerky due to the sheer desperation behind the strokes. It starts fast and immediately stutters faster, Hurricane's cock twitching in sympathetic want as another long strand of precome drips free]

Edited 2021-03-10 17:39 (UTC)

[Rye's free hand moves back to grip the headboard, gripping hard to ground himself from all the sensation. From the tentacle buried inside and pressed against Hurricane, all lacking real friction save the one slowly and deeply rocking into Hurricane's throat. From the tentacle pressing inside himself, feeling himself filled and the new tightness around a senditive limb. From watching Hurricane struggle and choke in his desperation, his noises so loud in his ears. He has to slow his hand on his own cock to keep from snapping.]

Fuck, is that how I feel? I-I'll have to ride you later...feel you around m-my cocks, and feel you inside.... [The one in him slowly begins to thrust, shallow and slow, letting him get used to it, both filling him and focusing with the sensation.]

[Then Hurricane finally does as he's told and he gasps, hips bucking sharply, a loud moan leaving him, pre dripping from the tentacles in hand and his cock.] Fuck- [The wood of the headboard creaks as his grip tightens, breathing labored.] There....there you are. Good boy. [The tentacle in Hurricane's mouth pulls out to rest in just his mouth, give him a chance to breathe and listen.]

I'm gonna touch your cock. And then I'm gonna move. Everything. I am going to fuck you senseless. If you can't take it at any point, let go of those cocks in your hands. Because I'm gonna lose my godsdamn mind when I start using you. But the loss of sensation should work as a safe word. Nod if you understand.

[Hurricane keens, the sound pure want, as the tentacle in Rye begins to move. His eyes are still squeezed shut against the sight, but he can hear it, slick motion, tantalizingly near. His cock pulses hard, stiff and leaking; a new strand of precome dribbles to the comforter, joing what's by now a sizeable wet spot]

[The keening noise has faded out by the time Rye calls him "good boy," and that's when the whimpers start, soft and pleading, cock giving another long twitch at the words. He can breathe like this, and his chest is heaving; new tears stream down the side of his face]

[He hasn't stopped trying to force himself further onto the tentacles buried inside him - hasn't stopped struggling, fighting with all his strength to rub up against the tentacle that's so painfully close to his cock]

[As soon as Rye asks him to nod, he's doing so almost frantically, over and over, without pause. The whimpers are downright desperate, by now; the motion of his hands on the tentacles is arhythmic, a little bit jerky and decidedly unsteady, but he keeps trying, as though if he only tries hard enough, somehow he'll be able to feel it, too]

That's a good boy. Doing so good. Taking it so well. Lets-lets see what it takes to make you cum. [The tentacle on his navel finally moves down, brushing over his cock, wrapping around him, suckers spreading over the length of him, a few carefully positioned just under the head, and one over the tip. Then the suckers start to work, sucking hard for a few moments before lessening, then sucking again, the sucker on the tip the only one to pull away briefly from the pre before returning to the tip. A second tentacle wraps around his cock and the tentacle, beginning to stroke him, shifting the suckers over his length and provide more friction then simple sucking.]

Open. Open your eyes, pet. I want you to. To watch. [His other hand gies to the head board, leaving his cock untouched for now. Then the tentacles get to work.]

[The pace is slow, at first. The one in his mouth starts up its thrusting again, pressing deep into his throat, slow and steady, before pulling out again. The ones on his nipple suck long and hard before releasing, rubbing his nipples, before sucking again. The ones in his hand thrust, try to give him a rhythm for his frantic hands. The ones between his thighs begins its own thrusting, matching the slow pace, pressing out close to his cock, just a little extra friction. The two in his ass, they don't pull out together, instead starting an alternating pattern, so Hurricane constantly feels a tentacle pulling out and pushing in deep, looking for that spot inside him.]

[The tentacle in Rye times its thrusts the same way. As for the rest, the wrap around Hurricane, keeping him angled so he can easily see Rye, holding his legs together, arms up, head tilted for his cock. But none are fully still, writhing to rub against him, suckers pressed to skin, leaving marks all over.]

[And Rye starts to moan, loud and keening, body shaking, wood creaking under his hands as he feels all of it, pleasure already so much at this slow pace.] Oh fuck, oh gods, I'm gonna fuck you so hard-gonna wreck you, wreck me-

[Hurricane makes a long, wavering, desperate sound as the first of the suckers settle into place on his cock and begin to work. He jolts hard as they begin to suck - trembles all over as the other tentacle joins them to provide friction. The sucker attached to the tip of him is slick with precome in seconds; his cock pulses hard, squeezing out a long strand of it to trail down his own length and the tentacles wrapped around him]

[His eyes flicker open at Rye's command; they're teary and wanting, the pupils completely blown. It's easy to see the way he takes in the sight: Rye spread out in front of him, hard but not touching, tentacle buried inside himself. It's easy to feel, from the way his cock jerks again, how much he likes the sight]

[Hurricane makes another sound, as the tentacles start to move - urgent and wanting, shivery with some combination of need and relief. He stops fighting against the hold as soon as there's motion, letting the tentacles hold him up, but he can't help but squirm, pressing back against them, pressing into the suction against his nipples]

[He swallows hard around the tentacle in his mouth, struggling not to choke as it begins again; his thighs tremble, pressed around the tentacle between his legs. His hands are not being especially helpful right now, even the unsteady rhythm of before lost in the face of so much sensation rolling over him all at once, but they're still making tight little holes with his fingers and thumbs, palms curled in warm and inviting. Every time Rye finds that spot inside him, Hurricane clamps down hard, cock flexing under the grip of all those suckers as it leaks new blurts of precome]

Edited 2021-03-12 17:30 (UTC)

Gods, just....look at you. [His voice is airy, tight, breathing heavy with moans pressing under his words. Hands gripping tight at the headboard, squirming, cock teitching hard, leaking pre. Much like the tentacles, making the appendages slicker, easier to move.] You're just....filled to the brim. Taking....taking so many cocks. Wrapped up like a present. Still gagging to be used and fucked and gods, Hurricane, Hurricane-

[He quakes, another thick blurt of pre come, eyes dazed and lidded and absolutely hungry. He shifts against the headboard, angles himself better for the tentacle to move inside himself.] Keep. Keep your eyes open. I want you to w-watch. Want to. See your expression.

[Its so much. So very much, feeling Hurricane's throat and ass hugging around him so tightly, the friction and softness of his thighs, the warmth of his hands. The tightness of his own body. And the way Hurricane trembles, the way his cock throbs and leaks, how he keeps trying to move into more. Its all so very much and it burns Rye to his core.]

[He quickly loses it, the slow, steady pace. It may be his only control is to not push the tentacles farther into Hurricane than he can take. The pace picks up, steady and hard, building quickly to match more when Rye is close to orgasm then the start. Pressing deep into Hurricane's throat, though at least pausing roughly every dozen thrusts to let him breathe before pushing in again. The ones in his hands are slick with pre, coating his fingers as they piston through his grip.]

[The ones in his ass keep up the alternating pattern, and once they find that spot, angle to hit it every time, barely giving a moment where a tentacle isn't slamming against it. His thighs are coated in pre, between tentacles and his own need, another tentacle pushimg in between the opposite way, to add more sensation. The tentacles around Hurricane help his squirming, helping him rock forward to take the one in his mouth, then back to the one in his ass.]

[The suckers are definitely leaving marks. Pulling hard at his nipples, with brief rubs between. His cock being sucked by a dozen eager little mouths, rocking with the stroking tentacle, one seeing to suck away the pre before letting it dribble away before sucking again.]

[The one in Rye matches pace. Thrusting as hard and fast as the one in Hurricane, letying him see how deep Rye is pushing the trntavles. Hus hips rutting into the air, cock twitching and leaking pre, his moans quite loud now, breathless chants of Hurticane's name.]

[It doesn't take long at all before Hurricane is keening behind the tentacle that's busy fucking his throat. He pants for breath, ragged, when he's able, and the soft whimpers and trembling whines continue non-stop regardless, muffled but not silenced, adding a layer of vibration to the slick heat]

[When Rye starts to lose control, those muffled noises kick it up another notch, getting more urgent and steadily higher pitched. He can't seem to stop moving against the tentacles buried inside him, pressing so insistently against that spot - can't seem to stop rocking his hips into the suction from the dozen little mouths pressed against his cock]

[He can't keep his eyes open for long, though he tries; they keep flickering closed, his vision blurred by tears as they spill over and run down his cheeks. It's a lot, all at once; everything is being touched, and rubbed, and used, and the sensations keep building up, and up, and up, reaching the lip of the cup only to discover that there's a lid, and there's nowhere to overflow]

[He's on the edge again with remarkable speed - clenches down hard, back arching and toes curling as he makes a sound that's suspiciously like a wail, if it wasn't muffled by his stuffed mouth]

[He grinds down hard against the tentacles inside him - presses up into the touch against his cock - thrashes, as best he can, within the bonds]

[And still he doesn't come, riding the edge of orgasm instead, the sounds leaving him an unending stream of whimpers]

Edited 2021-03-21 17:23 (UTC)

[Its overwhelming. Maddening. He knows what its like to fuck Hurricane, the ways his body feels, a mix of dreams and reality. How to feels to be buried inside him when he's at the edge. How good his moans and sounds of desperation are when he's muffled. The softness of his thighs and how they tremble, and his warm hands. How hard it is to keep his head when its just their bodies pressed together and only one of those is happening, but now its all of them mixed with a tentacle filling him, a dim awareness of being watched.]

Hurricne-fuck-want you want this want-gonna....gonna fuck you with all of them. Want. Want to keep feeling you. You like this. Gods-so fucking good-

[None of the tentacles are letting up. Rye is watching Hurricane with dazed, desperate, hungry eyes, voice loud and ragged, moans and sobs of pleasure leaving him because its all so much, so overwhelming, body writhing even as he grips the headboard, keeps from touching his own cock.]

[The tentacles are still wrapped tight, throbbing and writhing over Hurricane's skin, none still as the move over him, helping push and pull him between the various ones buried in him. Unconcerned with his own inability to cum.]

[Its maybe a minute at best as the quick pace continues, then the shift comes. Not quite as quick, but every thrust cums harder, pushing to the maximum depth the appendages dare, the suction stronger.]

[Then Rye is screaming, a choked, almost painful sound as he cums and cums hard. His cock splattering over his stomache and over the bedding in bursts. And not all the tentacles cum, but the key ones do. Spilling down his throat, the two in his ass, leaking out with the alternating movement and amount. The ones in his hands coating them, his thighs getting the same treatment. Thrusts still hard, slower, drawing out the orgasms using Hurricane's body. Even the one inside Rye matches that pace, hard and slow, some leaking out after a few thrusts to let Hurricane know exactly what happened.]

[Despite all that though, his cock and nipples are still getting attention from the suckers, another tentacles still determined to stroke him off.]

[He's loud, as Rye picks up the pace, even through the tentacle muffling his mouth; the noise he's making sounds suspiciously like a wail, the vibrations from it adding to the sensation of the slick wet heat of his mouth around the tentacle buried down his throat]

[He hasn't stopped trying to move - hasn't stopped struggling to press back onto the tentacles inside him or the ones against his cock - twisting and writhing, the rhythm of his hips shallow and erratic. His nipples are hard little nubs, reddened from the suction; he's still drawn up tight and shaking, back arched like a bow and toes curling, poised as though he's on the very edge of orgasm, inches from tipping over]

[But he doesn't. Instead, he only clenches down harder as the pleasure coils tighter inside him, up and up and up, with nowhere to go]

[And then the tentacles are coming, inside him and against him, and Rye's cock is spilling, too, in a tantalizing display. Hurricane's eyes are wide and desperate as he takes it all in, lashes damp with tears. He clenches down again hard as the show sends another spike of need through him, ratcheting him ever higher; his cock twitches in an agony of want, deep red, the precome spilling over to slick the shaft and the suckers still working at him]

[He makes a wavering, needy little sound as Rye finishes and the pace of the tentacles inside him begin to slow - squirms more desperately against the hold, pleading little whimpers escaping around the tentacle that fills his mouth]

[Rye is breathing hard, needy whines and keening whimpers leaving him as he cums down from the high of cumming so much at once. His body is shaking, tentacles continuing the hard, slow pace as Hurricane clenches around him, screams around him, pumping every last drop of his climax into and onto the desperate body in front of him.]

[But eventually the friction becomes too much, the tentacles all stilling with a soft whimper, save the ones on his nipples and cock, a constant, writhing suction. The ones in his hands slip free, winding around his arms instead to keep him still.]

[He sends one for a bottle of water, taking the clearly spiked drink and downing most of it even as he reaches for another. He looks to Hurricane pulling the tentacles out of his mouth so he can breathe freely.] Gods Hurricane....I love your body. You take being treated like a fucktoy so well. Even with this many cocks.

[Then he pulls the one out of himself with a soft gasp, cum spilking from between his legs. Keeping his legs spread so Hurricane can see what he did.] And don't worry. I'm not done with you. I'm going to fuck you with every tentacle until I can't cum anymore. Even if you pass out, I can still use your body. Would you like that, pet? Knowing you can still be used for pleasure even if you pass out?

[The tentacles inside Hurricane finally start to pull out, slow from the friction, but leaving all the same, along with the ones between his thighs. Leaving him empty for the moment as Rye draws him closer, holding up the other water bottle.] Drink. Breathe. I'm nowhere done with you.

[The needy little mewls don't subside when Rye finishes and the tentacles begin to pull out; if anything, they grow more insistent. The need to be filled slams into him like a freight train, washing over him with wave after wave of heat, the aphrodisiacs and the pheromones combining to make the need into a fever pitch. It's an unbearable itch inside him, and he has no way to sate it]

[If anything, it's worse now that he knows how it can be - to have had so much and then had it taken away. All that's left is the suction of the tentacles on his nipples and his cock, and he sucks in a shaking breath and sobs it out, desperate for more]

Please - please -

[His voice is an utter wreck from the tentacle that was throatfucking him so deeply, hoarse and ragged and unsteady]

Don't stop. Don't stop, I g-gotta have more. F-fuck me, fill me up, even if - even if I can't take it anymore. Even if I pass out, god, please, keep going now, I need it so bad -

[He doesn't make a move to drink the water, yet - is too busy struggling against the tentacles holding him, desperate to take his own cock in hand]

Edited 2021-10-20 23:46 (UTC)

[The tentacles tighten around his arms, komodo dragon strength still applicable in the dream, and he pulls his arms out to both sides fully. To take away any real leverage to accidentally hurt himself. The ones around his legs pull them apart now, since they don't need to be closed to fuck his thighs anymore, instead spreading them as wide as Hurricane's flexible body can stand, and limit his ability to move further, with him suspended in the air, spread out, a few mire around his torso for stability.]

[He finishes off his water, this time slow and careful, cock twitching with renew interest and the aphrodisiac in his system. Though it diesn't need to do much when Hurricane is so wrecked and desperate and absolutely hot in this state. When his voice is a mess, evidence of its treatment.]

Hmm, I'm curious, pet, how desperate you are. [And then, perhaps even more agonizingly, the tentacles leave Hurricane's cock and nipples, leaving the only form of contact being where his body is being held up.]

You're such a good fucktoy, you know. [And then he turns Hurrucane around to see their audience.] People just have to see you being used to be effected by you. [And they are. While picking out faces is hard, there are a large number of people watching their bed. All in various states of dress, some touching themselves, others using toys, many taking pictures and recording as they do so. Some are even having sex with a partner, all while watching the show.]

[Rye moves up, a hand over Hurricane's mouth, to silence him a moment, nuzzling his neck.] Drink the water. Nothing you say counts until you do. After that, I want you to beg, tell our audience all the ways you want to be fucked and used and pleasured. And I'll do all I can manage. Can't make you cum until your cock is ready, but I can use your body in all the ways you want.

Now, drink up, pet. [Purepred in his ear, holding up the water to his lips.]

Edited 2021-10-21 00:25 (UTC)

[His legs spread quite wide indeed; he really is quite flexible, and despite how wound up he is, he flushes darker at being so put on display. Then the tentacles are letting go of him, and that relentless pressure, the not-enough suction that was all he had, is taken away, and suddenly he can't think of anything else]

Don't -

[There's soemthing jagged in the tone, the very knife's edge of desperation; he yanks hard against the tentacles holding him, fighting with all his strength but unable to squirm so much as an inch]

Please, put - put them back. Put them back! T-touch me, fuck me, f-fill me up -

[He's mid-sentence, when Rye turns him to face the audience, and the moment he remembers that they have an audience is plain. He flushes a remarkale shade of red, from the tips of his ears all the way down to his chest - falls silent, when Rye covers his mouth, physically blocked for a moment from fulfilling the demands of the truth potion. The sudden wave of humiliation washes over him like a tidal wave, and he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to turn away, but not before he gets a good look at what they're doing. Not before he can take in those restlessly rubbing hands and tantalizing toys and the ones rocking their hips together, enjoying what he's being denied]

[A sob catches in his throat; his cock, on full display, is so hard it curves up toward his stomach, red and straining and slick with precome. It twitches in the open air - bobs, untouched, as Rye lays out what he expects to happen]

[Hurricane makes a tortured sound, half muffled by the plam pressed against his lips - squirms, as best he's able, which isn't at all. By the time Rye offers him the bottle of water again, tears have spilled over to run down his cheeks, and he leans in to gulp at the water so fast it's likely to choke him]

[Rye is careful with the water. As soon as it seems like Hurricane is amount to choke, he pulls the water away, hand rubbing along his throat to help him swallow before he holds up the water again.] Drink every drop pet. Best to keep hydrated. And it'll help your throat. You swalliwed that cock so good and deep, drank down all that cum like a lovely little fucktoy, but its important to recover.

Hmm, and the audience is going to town. So many people are fucking their hands, the fingers working people open. People are literally fucking each other and all they can look at us you. Gods, you got them so hot, Hurricane. This whole area is going to be a mess and it'll be all because of you. They're going to cum over and over just watching you work to your own orgasm.

[He kisses along his neck and cheek, nuzzling just under his ear with affectio n between drinks of water.] And as much as I'm sure they want you, want to use your wonderful body for themselves, want to fuck you senseless, I won't let them. Because your my pet tonight and I'm the only one to get to fuck you right now.

[Hurricane whines when Rye pulls the water away - can't help but stutter into desperate words, prompted by the truth potion, as soon as it's away from his mouth]

Please - god, I need something. I need a-anything -

[Then the water is back, and he takes another few frantic sips before it's drawn away again]

T-touch me, god, I'm - I'm burning up. It's so good, I can't - nn, that's - don't - don't listen to that, it's d-driving me crazy -

[He whimpers softly at the description of what the crowd is doing - the way Rye lays out for him every way they're enjoying themselves, and each other. His eyes are still squeezed shut so that he doesn't have to see, but he can hear it: the soft wet schlick of bodies coming together, the insistent pull of a hand on someone cock, the gratified moan of a person getting exactly what they want]

[His own cock bobs in the air, desperate and straining; a new dollop of precome squeezes out, trickling slowly down the length of him, and Hurriane squirms almost frantically in the hold of the tentacles, as though the promise of being fucked without any of the contact is unbearable]

[Its always a sight, seeing Hurricane lose it. The red of his blush, how it makes his freckles stand out, the way his expression shows utter want, the shine of his eyes when they're open. The way his body writhes, every muscle and tendon straining for more, how his cock arches up and shines with pre that slips out. Its a beautiful sight.]

[Rye watches the last of the water drain away and he drops the bottle. His hand moves over his mouth, tilting his head so he can kiss and nibble along the length of it.] You. Are so gorgeous. Gods, I love taking you apart. Already got me hard. [He shifts his hips forward, just enough so his erect cock brushes his lower back before his shifts back.]

And you want so much. [His other hand moves down, a finger tracing slooooowly up the length of his cock, before swirling around the tip, wiping away the pre.] Now I'm going to let you talk.

[He pulls his hand away from his cock. And brings it back to start pumping his own cock with a soft sigh, pace slow.] And you're going to say every dirty thing in your mind. You're going to tell our audience how my fucktoy wants to be used. If you don't, I'll just fuck my hand, an inch from your ass, instead of fucking you. [And then he releases his mouth.]

Dreamers After Dark (VII)

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