“The next tool you have chosen may change your mind,” he said.
She wondered briefly if his statement was referring to her arousal, and a stab of fear went through her.
But she found out soon enough: she had blindly selected a rod-shaped item, and Mozok was pressing the cool tip of it to the wet entrance of her vagina. It slipped easily inside of her, and for a moment Mina felt like laughing: it was cooler than her body, but otherwise, it was small and harmless.
But slowly, slowly, the cold sensation transformed. It became richer, thicker, somehow more cold—but without actually getting any colder. It almost seemed to vibrate, but at the same time, it did not.
It was, Mina began to realize, a perfect imitation of the hard ache that sexual arousal created in her pussy… But it only intensified, creating inside of her a feeling of desperation. A desperate need to be fulfilled, to have an orgasm—to get to, even, the beginning of an orgasm.
The sensation only continued to deepen, the ache feeling ever-colder, ever-more painful, until she had to twist her head to try and escape the always building…what? Discomfort? Desire? The feeling wasn’t even entirely bad… It didn’t hurt, it just never peaked, never satisfied. It only made her want.
She was beginning to sweat, to twist in her shackles. She couldn’t stand being motionless: it intensified the sensation, and she could get no relief. How long, she wondered. How long would Mozok watch her twist like this? If it was too long, she feared she could not bear it. It never stopped becoming more intense, and her body never accustomed to it. She was now approaching a level of craving, of hollow need that exceeded anything she had ever felt in her life.
“I am pleased,” Mozok said, walking casually around the table, looking down at her. “This tool was adjusted for Human stimulation by an artisan who is of the highest skill, but who has not ever had the opportunity to test it on an actual Human. It seems to have been calibrated quite well for you.”
Mozok dropped to a crouch, pushing her forehead up so he could look at her in the eyes. A tear was threatening to spill over, and Mina blinked it furiously away. She whimpered, and her limbs pulled hard against the restraints—she could not stop them.
“It is a special kind of sexual stimulation,” Mozok told her. “It can produce an endless, always escalating, sense of… I believe you call it… frustration? Creating only want, never release. It is a very special kind of punishment. Almost a torture by pleasure, no?”
Mina could not stop herself from whimpering again. She could only think of how badly she wanted to be released from this bizarre torture, which wasn’t painful, but was unbearable all the same. She would begin to beg if this went on much longer. She couldn’t believe it herself, but the intensity was overwhelming her.
“If you cannot bear it, all you have to do,” Mozok said, “is end your Trothplight. And then your shackles will be removed, and I will even pleasure you, and you will feel the relief you so crave.”
Mina was beginning to shake. Her body was covered in a cool sheen of sweat, and she felt dizzy. She had never wanted anything so badly in her life, she could safely say that. But beneath that intense desire she could also ascertain something important: she was not being actually hurt.
She moved her head slowly from side to side and then whimpered again as Mozok gently let her head fall back to the table, a twisted smile on his lips.
She would never have been able to say how long he left her in this position, shaking and growing endlessly starved for relief, until she was sobbing and panting. It could have been hours but it probably only seemed that way. After a while, she no longer knew where they were, or what they were doing; she could not think of anything but the building, terrifying desire between her legs. Always building, never approaching an end.
But at last, just as she was reaching what she was sure was a breaking point, the device was removed by Mozok, sliding from her very slick pussy, the hot juices of her body pouring from inside her.
A throb of emptiness consumed her, and her pussy ached… but the crescendo ceased, and the desire did not get more intense. Still, it was fading in increments too small for her to feel. She pressed her forehead to the table and panted, unable to think. Her muscles collapsed into their supports. She was exhausted. Her ears rang so loudly she thought she might not be able to hear Mozok if he spoke again.
“And now, trothka, you will thank me for your punishment. And then you will thank Voso.”
Voso moved to the head of the table to uncouple the shackles around her wrists. Mozok released her legs. She didn’t move immediately, because she was so exhausted she felt she might collapse if she tried to push herself up.
Mozok gave her some time, but then spoke softly behind her. “Come down from the punishment table. You will now thank me and Voso for your punishments.”
Mina managed to steady herself sufficiently to put her feet on the floor. Her legs felt like noodles, but she drew on her reserves of stubbornness to force herself to stand up and turn toward Mozok, who was smiling as his hands moved down the seams of his garment, baring his skin.
Mina had to force herself to look at him in the eye, not so much because she found him frightening, but because his body, other than its color, was a muscled and attractive shape, and she found herself dying to drop her eyes and contemplate his manhood. She didn’t want to give him the pleasure, however, of thinking she was attracted to him.
It occurred to her that if she did allow him to see her eyes wandering, it might actually make Mozok nervous, for she could see that he was as deeply invested in winning this struggle as she was. Or at least, almost. If she was sexually interested in him, he might feel defeated, and the thought of deflating his smug smile gave her a little thrill.
On the other hand, she reasoned quickly to herself, it might make him decide to ramp up his devious “punishments” and Trothplight torture, and she really didn’t need that.
“I am unfamiliar with the mating rituals of Humans,” Mozok said coolly as his robes fell to the floor. Mina’s eyes burned with desire to take in his entire body, and her own body was again betraying her. She set her jaw and stared back at him stonily. “But I believe that you have similar rituals. Have you pleasured a male Human before?”
Mina stared back at him, angry. That was certainly none of his business, Trothplight or no.
“Speak, trothka.”
“Nothing to say,” Mina shot back.
Mozok stepped toward her, his hard, muscled body now just inches from hers. Mina was confused and dismayed to feel a kind of magnetic pull throughout her body, beneath her skin, almost pulling her toward him. She very much wanted to feel his skin against hers—
She cut her thoughts off. What was she, crazy?
