(Started writing desperate immortal sub Keane, had a breakdown, bon apetit)
——-
Every now and then he wakes up with his throat on fire and his lungs filled with water.
It lurches him out of bed while gouging at his throat to expel the water so he could breathe. It never works, and he spends the next few seconds gasping for air and coughing to clear the remnants of the dream.
It’s the worst feeling he’s ever experienced every time. It’s terrifying, and it always scares him off falling asleep for the next few days.
Eventually it leads to a lack of being able to function properly. So when his limit is reached and his body and mind are at a stalemate in the war of this fear induced insomnia, he goes to see Heather.
He likes Heather because she’s as soft as she is cruel, well, physically that is.
He likes getting his hands on her and feeling the pliancy of her flesh in his palms and exploring the contrasts in her smooth skin to the callouses and scars on his; and he likes that she doesn’t take any shit and has no qualms about slapping him hard enough that his head spins.
“Stop that.” Heather says voice harsh with a matching intensity in her eyes. His hands drop to his side from kneading at the softness of her hips. “Now you lost the privilege of your hands” Heather continues with a smug smile but Keane was sure that wasn’t going to be an option anyway.
“ ehm ory mam” he manages, speech garbled behind the ball gag that she just finished attaching to his head. “No you’re not” She replies tugging on the strap to check for security and twists his head back and forth, “but you’ll get there by tonight” She finishes and pulls his head forward to mouth at the rubber ball.
He leans into it when her tongue peeks out to lick at the side of his mouth and she pulls back with a grin, releasing the harness so that he straightens up.
“Greedy as always” Heather tuts gathering the soft rope from the table to wind around his clasped wrists. Keane stands very still, breathing heavily through his nose and fighting back the heat in his abdomen that causes his cock to twitch.
“Arms up and on your toes” Heather orders and he follows quickly. She has to climb on a step-stool in order to secure his wrist to the heavy metal hook hanging from the beam and Keane barely resists the urge of burying his face where her breasts threatens to spill out of her tiny bra; he is hoping to get some release by the end of the scene and doesn’t want to push his luck too far and get caged for disobedience.
“I’m thinking ten licks for being a brat and five more for touching without asking”
She’s gotten the furniture out of the way, and winded the hook up until his arms are extending with effort. It’s not exactly painful but it isn’t comfortable either. The strain comes from trying to stay balanced on the balls of his feet as the device tries to pull him off of the ground. He feels vulnerable, and it’s hard to focus on much else besides getting through and getting down, even when his cock bobs with every unbalanced sway of his body.
“How does that sound?” Heather circles him as she talks and lets him feel the texture of the leather straps against his sides, back and ass in anticipation. Keane nods, enthused and huffs around the rubber ball. “Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am” he tries to articulate but it sounds like incomprehensible jargon as the gag restricts his tongue.
“You can do better than that” She says but doesn’t wait for another attempt before whipping the flogger across his muscled ass and thighs.
He tenses reflexively in surprise and rocks off of his feet for a few seconds until he catches his bearings. She hits him again the second that he does but he’s more prepared - the leather straps sting hotly in many different point of contact across his lower back but he can’t concentrate on the feeling because of his unsteadiness.
Another assault of thin straps of leather meets his thighs, harder than before and Keane lets out a muffled groan behind the gag. “I don’t hear you counting” Heather says as she walks around and the next hit meets his outer thigh.
“Ohr” Keane says not managing to sound out the word as she wanted. He’s hoping effort counts for something but he wouldn’t bet on it.
Heather has a history of punishing more than she rewards, which works for him most of the time, but he felt too keyed up for that to be enough tonight; Though Keane was nothing if not persistent so he would do what he had to until he earned it.
Another strike meets his frontal thigh. She was working her way around his body and the realization made his breath quicken. She only did that for specific reasons.
“Ayve” he says around the gag and took some quick shuffling steps on his toes as his body rocks. It was going from being uncomfortable to being impossible and half of it was anticipating what was coming next.
She’s made her way to stand in front of him and the fast whip of the straps strikes his erect cock into his abdomen.
His hips pump forward with a garbled groan chasing the hot sting of pain and pleasure and his arms pulls at the metal hook where they're attached.
She does it again and again. Hitting the shaft, then his scrotum, then the head of his cock. Each strike fire hot and causing his member to scrape along his abs until he’s smearing precum along the hard ridges. Each time his hips chases it to no avail. The strange mix of pain and pleasure disappearing as it came until the next one.
“Have you lost count?” Heather says while Keane is struggling to catch his breath and still the movement of his body desperately humping the air as a plead for more, “what number are we on?” She asks and he really doesn't know. He stopped being able to pay attention when he started to feel good.
There were too many things to concentrate on at once. His toes trying to keep the floor beneath him, his arms straining up above, trying to occasionally swallow so he wasn't slobbering spit all down his chin and neck, and the fact that his balls felt so full already and he didn't want to go off before she got a chance to use him.
“Msry” he says in a breath that turns into a sharp cry as she whips him again and his cock splutters a glob of precum with a hard twitch as it bounces against him.
“Are you?”
Heather asks and she's rubbing the handle under his sac where he was drawn up tight and pushing in a way that had his body jerking wildly. He nods frantically, riding the hard leather handle of the flogger until she's pushing it up and towards his shaft.
His hips bucks against it and then he can't stop, her palms wide and cradling his sac as he fucks against the hard rod. It didn't feel good exactly, but it was something and he felt aching and desperate and willing to take whatever she gave him.
“Such a desperate little slut” Heather says viciously, adjusting her hand to wrap loose fingers around the base of him and the ridged leather, “we barely started and you’re losing it already” she accentuates her words by stroking him roughly and Keane moans out low and eager following her path. It felt like he was rubbing his dick painfully raw, but his balls ached too much to stop.
It doesn’t take many of her strokes to fan the fire in his stomach to unbearable and every muscle of his body was pulling sore when he felt ready to burst.
“May I come ma’am” he tries but sounds like mumbles behind the rubber ball and his aching jaw.
“What was that?” Heather answers with her cruel grin and tightens her grip around him. Her palm sliding up over his crown and down his swollen shaft with the handle pressing a firm pressure that his body doesn’t know how to interpret. He just kept spitting out precum, even when it bordered more painful than good.
But Keane was a glutton for it and he rocks against it, moans turning needy and desperate as his cock felt raw and abused wanting more. His stomach felt tight and his hips were doing sharp jerks into her hand that pulled the pressure in his sac to suffocating.
“Please ma’am” he groaned into the ball, his body on edge and teetering. “Please, please, please” he says like a mantra and his breathing pitches up with every exhale until there’s a humming in his throat.
He wasn’t going to be able to hold it back for much longer, and his groin was straining as much as his thighs and legs and arms and chest.
“Please. I’m sorry” he begs with spit dripping out the corners of his mouth and his eyes shutting tight as electricity starts in his spine shoots through him.
“Ohh” Keane groans low as the levee breaks then gives a sharp and jumbled “fuck” when Heather pulls her hand away and all stimulation is taken away from his cock.
He’s too far off the edge to keep from coming but it’s wholly unsatisfying when his balls spasms and his neglected cock sputters out thick semen on his length and onto the floor.
“Uh… uh…” Keane groans out pained and in desperation while his cock bobs and twitches. He was still hard and the weight in his stomach somehow felt heavier and more likely to sink him in the absence of a proper orgasm.
“Poor baby,” Heather coos when her fingers splays across his abs and she works her hand through the mess, “that didn’t look like it felt good” she finishes, tone mocking and wraps long fingers around his hard shaft.
Keane’s whole body jerks violently and his arm muscles protests against the movement with a sharp pain that he feels along his side. The stress in position was officially taking its toll on the difference before sore and painful.
“Did that hurt?” She asks and starts a slow rhythm stroking his cock that quickens his breaths to frantic and juts his hips in search of more.
“Please” he mumbles behind the gag as he’s right back on the edge with a few firm touches of her fingers along the oversensitive skin and thumbing the underside of his cock.
Every slow pull from base to tip felt like it started at the deep pool of his spine and yanked his lungs forward and every stroke down sunk it heavily into his core until he was choking on his own need for release.
“Uh, Ahh…” Keane starts then breaks off with a hiss as she coaxes his orgasm from him. He feels like he’s melting and the only thing he’s aware off of is the core off him being pulled through thick ropes of come until he’s hollow.
“Oh, oh” he’s rumbling from his throat as his muscles go pliant while Heather milks him so slow and firm. His feet are numb and unable to make out the solid ground and his weight has gone completely dependent on the hook holding his arms.
“Please please…” he begs weakly, garbled into the rubber and unsure of what he’s asking for until she taps at his sac and makes him jerk and cry out.
Once then twice then again and again until he has nothing less to give and his pleasured cries have turned to whimpers from the abuse.
“You’re so pathetic” Heather mocks cruelly and Keane can barely focus on pulling air through his nose. Nothing else matters but the ache and dry spasm of his cock whenever her palm struck his oversensitive scrotum.
“I’m sorry” he’s all breath and desperation when he tries to speak passed the gag and ends in a mess of sound.
“Not yet” Heather says with a quick grab and release at his softened member then stepping away to watch him sway loose limbed on the hook, “but we have time” she finishes with a dark smile and makes her way to wind him down.
Keane pleads with moans at this throat and barely has to pretend to be terrified. If anything else he’ll be exhausted enough to sleep tonight.
Keane/cruelfemdom!OC - BDSM, ruined orgasm, handjob, flogging
(Started writing desperate immortal sub Keane, had a breakdown, bon apetit)
——-
Every now and then he wakes up with his throat on fire and his lungs filled with water.
It lurches him out of bed while gouging at his throat to expel the water so he could breathe. It never works, and he spends the next few seconds gasping for air and coughing to clear the remnants of the dream.
It’s the worst feeling he’s ever experienced every time. It’s terrifying, and it always scares him off falling asleep for the next few days.
Eventually it leads to a lack of being able to function properly. So when his limit is reached and his body and mind are at a stalemate in the war of this fear induced insomnia, he goes to see Heather.
He likes Heather because she’s as soft as she is cruel, well, physically that is.
He likes getting his hands on her and feeling the pliancy of her flesh in his palms and exploring the contrasts in her smooth skin to the callouses and scars on his; and he likes that she doesn’t take any shit and has no qualms about slapping him hard enough that his head spins.
“Stop that.” Heather says voice harsh with a matching intensity in her eyes. His hands drop to his side from kneading at the softness of her hips. “Now you lost the privilege of your hands” Heather continues with a smug smile but Keane was sure that wasn’t going to be an option anyway.
“ ehm ory mam” he manages, speech garbled behind the ball gag that she just finished attaching to his head. “No you’re not” She replies tugging on the strap to check for security and twists his head back and forth, “but you’ll get there by tonight” She finishes and pulls his head forward to mouth at the rubber ball.
He leans into it when her tongue peeks out to lick at the side of his mouth and she pulls back with a grin, releasing the harness so that he straightens up.
“Greedy as always” Heather tuts gathering the soft rope from the table to wind around his clasped wrists. Keane stands very still, breathing heavily through his nose and fighting back the heat in his abdomen that causes his cock to twitch.
“Arms up and on your toes” Heather orders and he follows quickly. She has to climb on a step-stool in order to secure his wrist to the heavy metal hook hanging from the beam and Keane barely resists the urge of burying his face where her breasts threatens to spill out of her tiny bra; he is hoping to get some release by the end of the scene and doesn’t want to push his luck too far and get caged for disobedience.
“I’m thinking ten licks for being a brat and five more for touching without asking”
She’s gotten the furniture out of the way, and winded the hook up until his arms are extending with effort. It’s not exactly painful but it isn’t comfortable either. The strain comes from trying to stay balanced on the balls of his feet as the device tries to pull him off of the ground. He feels vulnerable, and it’s hard to focus on much else besides getting through and getting down, even when his cock bobs with every unbalanced sway of his body.
“How does that sound?” Heather circles him as she talks and lets him feel the texture of the leather straps against his sides, back and ass in anticipation. Keane nods, enthused and huffs around the rubber ball. “Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am” he tries to articulate but it sounds like incomprehensible jargon as the gag restricts his tongue.
“You can do better than that” She says but doesn’t wait for another attempt before whipping the flogger across his muscled ass and thighs.
He tenses reflexively in surprise and rocks off of his feet for a few seconds until he catches his bearings. She hits him again the second that he does but he’s more prepared - the leather straps sting hotly in many different point of contact across his lower back but he can’t concentrate on the feeling because of his unsteadiness.
Another assault of thin straps of leather meets his thighs, harder than before and Keane lets out a muffled groan behind the gag. “I don’t hear you counting” Heather says as she walks around and the next hit meets his outer thigh.
“Ohr” Keane says not managing to sound out the word as she wanted. He’s hoping effort counts for something but he wouldn’t bet on it.
Heather has a history of punishing more than she rewards, which works for him most of the time, but he felt too keyed up for that to be enough tonight; Though Keane was nothing if not persistent so he would do what he had to until he earned it.
Another strike meets his frontal thigh. She was working her way around his body and the realization made his breath quicken. She only did that for specific reasons.
“Ayve” he says around the gag and took some quick shuffling steps on his toes as his body rocks. It was going from being uncomfortable to being impossible and half of it was anticipating what was coming next.
She’s made her way to stand in front of him and the fast whip of the straps strikes his erect cock into his abdomen.
His hips pump forward with a garbled groan chasing the hot sting of pain and pleasure and his arms pulls at the metal hook where they're attached.
She does it again and again. Hitting the shaft, then his scrotum, then the head of his cock. Each strike fire hot and causing his member to scrape along his abs until he’s smearing precum along the hard ridges. Each time his hips chases it to no avail. The strange mix of pain and pleasure disappearing as it came until the next one.
“Have you lost count?” Heather says while Keane is struggling to catch his breath and still the movement of his body desperately humping the air as a plead for more, “what number are we on?” She asks and he really doesn't know. He stopped being able to pay attention when he started to feel good.
There were too many things to concentrate on at once. His toes trying to keep the floor beneath him, his arms straining up above, trying to occasionally swallow so he wasn't slobbering spit all down his chin and neck, and the fact that his balls felt so full already and he didn't want to go off before she got a chance to use him.
“Msry” he says in a breath that turns into a sharp cry as she whips him again and his cock splutters a glob of precum with a hard twitch as it bounces against him.
“Are you?”
Heather asks and she's rubbing the handle under his sac where he was drawn up tight and pushing in a way that had his body jerking wildly. He nods frantically, riding the hard leather handle of the flogger until she's pushing it up and towards his shaft.
His hips bucks against it and then he can't stop, her palms wide and cradling his sac as he fucks against the hard rod. It didn't feel good exactly, but it was something and he felt aching and desperate and willing to take whatever she gave him.
“Such a desperate little slut” Heather says viciously, adjusting her hand to wrap loose fingers around the base of him and the ridged leather, “we barely started and you’re losing it already” she accentuates her words by stroking him roughly and Keane moans out low and eager following her path. It felt like he was rubbing his dick painfully raw, but his balls ached too much to stop.
It doesn’t take many of her strokes to fan the fire in his stomach to unbearable and every muscle of his body was pulling sore when he felt ready to burst.
“May I come ma’am” he tries but sounds like mumbles behind the rubber ball and his aching jaw.
“What was that?” Heather answers with her cruel grin and tightens her grip around him. Her palm sliding up over his crown and down his swollen shaft with the handle pressing a firm pressure that his body doesn’t know how to interpret. He just kept spitting out precum, even when it bordered more painful than good.
But Keane was a glutton for it and he rocks against it, moans turning needy and desperate as his cock felt raw and abused wanting more. His stomach felt tight and his hips were doing sharp jerks into her hand that pulled the pressure in his sac to suffocating.
“Please ma’am” he groaned into the ball, his body on edge and teetering. “Please, please, please” he says like a mantra and his breathing pitches up with every exhale until there’s a humming in his throat.
He wasn’t going to be able to hold it back for much longer, and his groin was straining as much as his thighs and legs and arms and chest.
“Please. I’m sorry” he begs with spit dripping out the corners of his mouth and his eyes shutting tight as electricity starts in his spine shoots through him.
“Ohh” Keane groans low as the levee breaks then gives a sharp and jumbled “fuck” when Heather pulls her hand away and all stimulation is taken away from his cock.
He’s too far off the edge to keep from coming but it’s wholly unsatisfying when his balls spasms and his neglected cock sputters out thick semen on his length and onto the floor.
“Uh… uh…” Keane groans out pained and in desperation while his cock bobs and twitches. He was still hard and the weight in his stomach somehow felt heavier and more likely to sink him in the absence of a proper orgasm.
“Poor baby,” Heather coos when her fingers splays across his abs and she works her hand through the mess, “that didn’t look like it felt good” she finishes, tone mocking and wraps long fingers around his hard shaft.
Keane’s whole body jerks violently and his arm muscles protests against the movement with a sharp pain that he feels along his side. The stress in position was officially taking its toll on the difference before sore and painful.
“Did that hurt?” She asks and starts a slow rhythm stroking his cock that quickens his breaths to frantic and juts his hips in search of more.
“Please” he mumbles behind the gag as he’s right back on the edge with a few firm touches of her fingers along the oversensitive skin and thumbing the underside of his cock.
Every slow pull from base to tip felt like it started at the deep pool of his spine and yanked his lungs forward and every stroke down sunk it heavily into his core until he was choking on his own need for release.
“Uh, Ahh…” Keane starts then breaks off with a hiss as she coaxes his orgasm from him. He feels like he’s melting and the only thing he’s aware off of is the core off him being pulled through thick ropes of come until he’s hollow.
“Oh, oh” he’s rumbling from his throat as his muscles go pliant while Heather milks him so slow and firm. His feet are numb and unable to make out the solid ground and his weight has gone completely dependent on the hook holding his arms.
“Please please…” he begs weakly, garbled into the rubber and unsure of what he’s asking for until she taps at his sac and makes him jerk and cry out.
Once then twice then again and again until he has nothing less to give and his pleasured cries have turned to whimpers from the abuse.
“You’re so pathetic” Heather mocks cruelly and Keane can barely focus on pulling air through his nose. Nothing else matters but the ache and dry spasm of his cock whenever her palm struck his oversensitive scrotum.
“I’m sorry” he’s all breath and desperation when he tries to speak passed the gag and ends in a mess of sound.
“Not yet” Heather says with a quick grab and release at his softened member then stepping away to watch him sway loose limbed on the hook, “but we have time” she finishes with a dark smile and makes her way to wind him down.
Keane pleads with moans at this throat and barely has to pretend to be terrified. If anything else he’ll be exhausted enough to sleep tonight.