Chapter 5 #2
He stares for just a lingering moment, then he sets the leaf on my tongue, and it immediately begins to dissolve. The bitterness hits first, sharp enough to make me flinch, but it melts away quickly, and I force myself to swallow.
He nods in approval when he sees my throat bob. Then, as I watch, he settles between my knees, his hands landing on my thighs just like before. He spreads them a little wider, then tugs my balls out from beneath me, giving them a very gentle caress.
The feel of him touching me there has my skin breaking out in goosebumps. His soft, velvety fingers stroke me gently, unlike last time when he was rough and no-nonsense.
This feels almost…intimate.
Intoxicating.
Addicting.
My shoulders loosen against my will, and as they relax, I feel a tingle move through my body. The herb is most definitely working. His long fingers wrap around my cock, and I’m powerless to do anything about it.
He strokes once and then twice, his grip tighter than before.
His hand releases me a second later, and he leans down, taking a deep breath of my scent before parting his lips.
His long tongue curls around the tip of my dick, then dips into my slit, and I let out a low moan at the feel of how wet and warm he is.
His cool piercings hit me in all the right places, and when he takes me all the way into the back of his throat, I find myself precariously close to coming already.
Faster than I did the first time.
“Fuck, dude. I’m close.”
He huffs around me and lets go just long enough to say, “That will not be a problem this time.” Then he takes me into his mouth again, and my balls ache.
They feel full and heavier than they’ve ever been. I let out another long groan as he brings me into the back of his throat and swallows.
That herb must work fast, I think as he hollows out his cheeks, creating a suction around my aching length. I feel his tongue piercings drag up the underside of my dick, and my fingers curl around the arms of the chair as I hold on for dear life.
My head is spinning. This is more pleasure than I’ve ever felt in my life, and I don’t know if I can take it. It’s so much.
My cock twitches when he hums, and I stare down at him, watching his head bob, his ears twitch and flutter like he’s trying to catch the sound of my groans.
His hands are curled around the legs of the chair as he sucks my dick, that vibration in his throat and through his tongue growing stronger. He has no problem taking me all the way in. In fact, he seems to be enjoying himself this time.
Suddenly, I feel something inside of me tighten, wrapping around my chest and squeezing. My balls draw up, my breathing growing labored as the feeling spreads.
And then suddenly, untethered, it snaps.
I let out a shout as my cock explodes without warning. My ass lifts off the chair, tunneling a little further down his throat, and he swallows me all the way down. My back arches and cracks as my eyes roll into the back of my head.
“Oh fuck. Holy fuck,” I curse as I try to come down from the high of it. But it’s not ebbing away like it should.
And my cock doesn’t soften at all.
I have no relief from the orgasm. It goes on and on, stealing my breath and any semblance of sanity left in my head.
That band around my chest tightens once more, building pressure.
The Vyastil peers up at me, his lips still stretched around my dick, and I see his rainbow irises shimmering.
My lips part as he continues to suck on my cock, the sensation from coming still vibrating within me.
“Holy fuck,” I gasp. “What did you give me?” I groan louder as his tongue tightens in a circle around my dick, pulsing and milking it. “What kind of fucking plant was that?”
His eyes glint, then he closes them as he continues his work, relentless.
Desperate.
Hungry.
I explode again within seconds, my head slamming against the cold chair, wrists pulling tight against their restraints. The sting of pain threads with something deeper inside me. Something raw and electric, almost divine.
“Fuck. Me. What the hell!”
I moan as his hand leaves one of the chair legs and curls around my balls. They’re stiff and hard as he rolls them in his palm, squeezing them lightly as though he’s coaxing them to release more.
My cock erupts again, and I gasp as an even deeper sensation pulses through me. For a moment, I think I hear a voice.
“Well done, human. Give me everything you have. I need it.”
“I need you.”
But that can’t be real, can it? Does this herb cause hallucinations along with the endless supply of cum?
My next orgasm forces my breath to rattle around my chest, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.
Christ, when he said it would be easier to milk me, I didn’t take it literally, but I probably should have because he’s getting a massive amount from my balls.
That herb must do something to humans, to their hormones, to put me in some kind of continuous state of cum production. I’ve never had this many orgasms in the span of…my eyes move to the timer, and I groan. Only five minutes have gone by?
I may not make it. I may die here, dick still spurting and body still arching toward him.
And the Vyastil doesn’t seem to care. He very clearly wants to milk me dry.
“I’m—oh fuck.” I buck and squirm.
He pulls another orgasm from me. My lips are cracked, my tongue is sticking to the roof of my mouth, and I can barely breathe. Air doesn’t leave my chest without a wheeze, which I know isn’t a good sign.
I want him to stop, but the thought of that is terrifying. My need to continue coming is too strong, and I need relief. I need him to suck me until there’s nothing in me to give.
Suddenly, his mouth disappears, his tongue unwrapping from around my dick. Drops linger on his bottom lip, and he swipes them away, his eyelids fluttering as he does.
“The herb is working as it should.” His voice is deeper now and rougher.
“No shit,” I rasp, wanting to tell him to give me a moment, but I’m unable to form the words.
I’m not ready for this to be over. I’m scared of what will happen to my balls if they don’t empty like they should.
They’ll probably explode.
As though he’s reading my mind, he squeezes them lightly, and cum dribbles from the tip of my dick.
“You are so delicious,” he murmurs as he leans down and licks it up. “But I know this is your first time taking ruenox. I will give you a short break.”
I wheeze as he pushes the tip of his tongue through my slit before finally pulling away.
“So generous,” I say dryly as my mind starts to come back online.
He cocks his head to the side. “I have been told that I am.”
I roll my eyes. Great, they don’t understand sarcasm, apparently.
I move my gaze to the timer and squint. Shit, twenty more minutes. What the hell am I going to do about this? How am I going to take myself to work like this?
I can’t even feel my fucking legs.
My skin feels too tight, every inch of me stretched thin and thrumming. The pause he’s given me isn’t relief. It’s fucking agony. The longer the silence stretches between us, the more the pressure builds, coiling inside me, about to blow.
My eyes go hot and feverish. “No more,” I murmur. “No more break.”
His gaze meets mine. “You are done, little human?”
“Yes. Hurry. It hurts. Suck me.”
He tilts his head, inclines his chin, and then falls on me again. His tongue twists around my cock, cheeks hollowing out as he suckles. My eyes roll back from the sheer relief of it all, breath stuttering as my body tenses against the restraints.
The world fractures into waves of sensation and pleasure, pulling me under again and again.
It’s endless. I’m swallowed by the swell. My vision fades to white, my body trembling, caught between stillness and release. I feel helpless, unable to do anything but succumb to it.
I gurgle and gasp, scream and cry for help. For more. For less. For relief.
But there is no one except him, and his mouth, and I’m left with no choice but to feel every inch of him.
And I do. I experience it all, every suck and spurt. Every blinding orgasm that crashes over me.
And then, without any real warning, it’s over. His mouth is gone, though he’s still between my legs, his palms pressed to the tops of my thighs as though he knows I need grounding.
I can’t see yet, but I can feel cool air hitting my softening dick, my balls aching in the worst way.
My ears are ringing, and I feel a sting in the back of my throat from all the screaming.
My eyelids flutter open, and I see the Vyastil peering up at me, looking half-drunk, his body listing slightly to the side.
He’s letting me take some of his weight, but after a moment, he stands and stares at me. “You did well, little human.”
“Fuck. You,” I rasp, unable to fully form the words. I sound as far gone as he looks.
“We do not fuck humans. We only suck them.”
I groan at the words leaving his mouth. He moves to step away, but he falters slightly, using my shoulder for balance. His soft skin hits mine again, and I shiver.
I suddenly feel exposed. I don’t know where to go from here. Or how I’m supposed to feel.
“Tomorrow,” he tells me, and I shake my head, my dry throat clicking as I swallow. But he doesn’t look at me. Instead, he stumbles from the room, leaving the door wide open.
The restraints on my chair abruptly unshackle, and my wrists and ankles are finally free.
But even so, I can’t move. My entire body is still humming and aching from the orgasms. Thirty straight minutes of it. I feel like he killed me, and now I’m coming back to life.
I’m going to need some time before I can move.
A head peeks around the doorframe, and I see the woman who brought me back here.
“Oh dear. He gave you ruenox, didn’t he? Let me get a wheelchair and help you out.”
She closes the door to give me privacy, and I close my eyes, feeling my cheeks heat.
I cannot believe she just saw that.
But then again, she didn’t act like this was something new. Perhaps the Vyastil gives that herb to humans often. Perhaps that’s why there’s a line of zombies outside.
A knock on the door has my eyes flicking to it, and I see her wheeling a chair in. She places it near me and then helps me into my gown.
My arms are limp, my legs as well, and I don’t know when this is going to wear off. I just want to go to sleep, to curl myself in my comforter and close my eyes.
“Come on. Let me help you.”
With a grunt and a few curse words, I fall into the wheelchair, and she pushes me to a separate room.
This one is dim with low lights, and that same unearthly music is playing over the speakers. There are three other men in here, their eyes swiveling to meet mine as I enter.
“I’ll get you some water and a granola bar.” She pats me on the shoulder and then lowers her voice. “This is completely normal. Nothing to be ashamed about, and the effects will wear off shortly.”
But I am ashamed. Holy shit, I am. I came so hard and so long that I can’t walk.
“They give you the herb, too?” I manage to ask.
A man with dark hair and glasses blinks over at me. “What herb?”
I blush and shake my head, turning my gaze away so I don’t need to look at them. Great. So just me, then, with my weird cum-producing problems?
A moment later, she returns with water and curls my fingers around the paper cup. “Get hydrated, then eat the granola bar. You can head to the lockers when you’re ready,” she tells me, and with a wave, she’s gone.
I sit there in silence, sipping on the cool water, but realizing it’s doing nothing to take away the heat in my cheeks, body, and mind.
I really shouldn’t come back here.
This is going to fuck up my entire day. Maybe even my week. I don’t know why he’s requesting me, but he can fuck off and suck another dick.
I won’t be back. Not for a long, long time.