19
Jase
The horny bastard made me undress him and follow him into the bath. Not into the actual tub, thank god, but the separate room he had the tub itself in. It was connected to the room with the toilet and sink via a little door. Another door connected it directly to the bedroom. We didn’t use that one because of the next indignity he wanted me to suffer before taking his bath.
“Kneel down,” he ordered, pointing to a spot on the floor next to the toilet, between it and the sink. Thinking he wanted me to sit there on my knees and wait while he took a shit, I did as I was told. I didn’t like it, but it wasn’t worth missing dinner while getting arm and leg cramps from being forced back into the cage. “No, not like that. Face me.” I turned about. “Hold my cock.”
Hell no.
“Hold.My. Cock.”
I moved to stand up. “Enough of this shit!” I never made it, his arm shooting out to shove me, hard. I overbalanced, falling back the short distance and cracking the back of my head and shoulders against the tiles on the wall.
“I said kneel!” he roared.
Oh shit, that sparkly haze wasn’t all me seeing stars from the knock to my noggin. It was flaring from around him, concentrated around his raised hands. I looked up to face and wished I hadn’t. Flames danced in his eyes and the fangs I saw peeking out earlier were longer, thicker, and sharper. I was fucked. He was about to flay me alive.
I scrambled back onto my knees, ducking my head down. “I’m sorry, Lord Willow,” I said, hating the tinge of fear I heard in my voice. I was not used to being afraid, not anymore. Not since leaving my daddy’s house and joining the Army, anyway. Not even when I was in some war zone, set up to take down some warlord with my sniper rifle. Cautious, yes, afraid no. Until now. It didn’t matter how much of a badass I was back in the human realm. Here, I was defenseless against their magic. Magic, which every god damned body had except for me.
“Hold my cock,” he repeated a third time. I sagged in relief. Thank fuck, he was giving me another chance. I reached out with the hand closest to him, closing my hand gently around him. It was quite the handful, being both long and thick with heavy balls beneath. Dude was hung like a bull. “Now, kiss it.”
The magic was still flaring. I had a split second to make a decision. Give in and be his bitch, kissing his cock, or face magical dismemberment or worse. I kissed the tip.
“With tongue.”
I opened my mouth, stroking the head of his cock with my tongue, dipping the tip into his slit.
“Yes, just like that. Now suck it.”
Didn’t he have to piss? Please don’t let him piss in mouth, I prayed. I opened my mouth wider, sliding the bulbous head into my mouth. I reached my other hand up and began using my two hands to jack off what I couldn’t fit in my mouth comfortably as I bobbed my head up and down experimentally. I didn’t get to do hookups very often, and while I liked being fucked, I usually was the one getting sucked. I told myself that this was my choice. I chose to do this rather than accept the other option. I was okay. I ignored the little voice in my head whispering that I was a liar.
He groaned, his hands landing on my head, his fingers curling tightly in my hair. The sting of my scalp, the mix of salty and sweet that was the taste of him, the scent of freshly fallen snow and fresh pine that was his scent, and the sound of his satisfaction all went straight to my own traitorous dick. I couldn’t even hide it, thanks to having my hands full and only wearing a glorified hanky on a string.
“So good,” he breathed. “Look at you, you’re enjoying it.” He gave a hard thrust, shoving his dick deeper despite my grip. I choked. “Remove your hands.”
The light of his magic was dimmer than before, so doing as he wished was definitely the way to go if I wanted to save my ass. I’d made the right choice. I dropped my hands. He began seesawing in and out, holding my head in place. I choked as he rammed his meat in, battering the back of my throat relentlessly. I focused on trying to breathe through my nose. Tears streamed from my eyes, but I didn’t care. It was terrible. It was also so very, very good, his domination sparking that something within me that loved being held down and fucked. I hated myself a bit for that. His rhythm became more erratic, then, pinning me tight against his groin, he grunted, filling my throat with his come.
I moved then, anticipating him letting me go.
“Remain still, we’re not done yet,” he murmured.
My eyes widened. No…
He never went entirely soft. I felt him stiffen a bit more, then let me go and pull out.
“Hold my cock, I need to piss,” he said.
Thank fuck for that. For a minute, I thought he was going to piss down my throat. I did as he asked, aiming it for the center of the bowl. A long yellow stream hit the water, then stopped. He placed his hand on mine. “Don’t shake it off. Lick me clean.”
I closed my eyes and did as he asked, the acrid tang from a drop of urine clinging to the tip hitting my tongue. I gagged.
“Don’t you dare,” he warned me, the light beginning to flare once more. I forced my gorge down. Once I stopped heaving, he patted me on the head like a damned dog. “You can let go now.” I released him and he strode away to the sink. I pressed the button to flush.
“Come on,” he said. “It’s bath time.”
I followed him into the next room. A luxurious tub carved from marble filled the space, a seat at one end. Someone sitting on it would have their feet and lower legs in the water, with full access to a person sitting in the tub.
“Go on, undress and go sit.”
I untied my loincloth and let it drop onto the floor. Clambering in and plonking my ass on the seat, I found the water to be warm, but not steaming. It felt silky against the skin and a subtle herbal scent wafter out from it. I was reminded of my childhood, to a time before my mother left us. She kept a box of Calgon in the bathroom and I once tipped some into my bathwater. Thankfully, neither of my parents had ever found out, or I’d have gotten a whipping. The Calgon was one of the sole luxuries afforded to my mother, and my father would be pissed at me wasting it because he’d have to cough up a couple of bucks sooner to get her a new box. I settled into a comfortable position and waited, head down, for him to get in. Head bowed to look as if I was giving him respect while it also kept him from seeing the genuine fear and anger warring within me. I could school my face into impassivity, but my eyes would spill all my secrets if I wasn’t careful.
