“As I said, my darling, you only speak when spoken to.”
Karlach mumbled something through the gag in her mouth and looked at Shadowheart with wide, wanton eyes.
“Oh, but I guess we don’t have to worry about that, do we?”
Shadowheart’s hands were on either side of Karlach’s face, gently stroking her cheeks. The tears that streamed down weren’t tears of displeasure, but tears of effort from the artificial co*ck lodged in her throat in place of her lover’s. Her own hands gripped Shadowheart’s wrists in a desperate attempt to regain her balance, but her knees ached, and she fell back to the floor.
“How am I even going to walk you out?” she scoffed, eyeing her lover’s caged co*ck. “If you can’t stand on your own, perhaps we should make you crawl.”
Shadowheart gave Karlach’s leash a harsh yank, the collar tightening around her throat to make her gasp for air. At that point, the tiefling could barely breathe, her windpipe restricted by a combination of the leather collar and the plastic co*ck.
“Mmh,” was all Karlach could respond with, her co*ck twitching in its cage.
She wanted to allow herself to get hard so badly, to f*ck Shadowheart in the way only she knew how.
Instead, Shadowheart was being cruel, disallowing Karlach to touch, taste, or f*ck her. And those were three of Karlach’s favorite things to do. The intensity of her desire ate away at her, hands groping aimlessly in the padded mitts that Shadowheart had locked around her wrists. The chains hung over her breasts and connected to the collar, keeping her from lowering her hands to a greater extent.
“Is that so, my love?” Shadowheart responded to the muffled grunt, giving her leash another yank.
Karlach fell forward, barely catching herself with her restricted hands. The mitts kept her positioned about a foot above the floor, held up by only her hands and knees. This particular pose put a lot of strain on her neck. She felt rather uncomfortable with her face so close to the ground and her ass up in the air.
But it didn’t matter how she felt about it. That was Shadowheart’s call to make.
“Look at me.”
Karlach obeyed, her eyes glittering with need, though her neck screamed at her to look back down. At this point, she would do anything to wriggle from her bindings, stuff her mouth with her lover’s co*ck, and suck until she was rewarded with the sweet taste of her spend.
“We’re going to go out there, and you’re not going to make a single sound. For every sigh, whimper, moan, or grunt, I’ll add a strike. Each strike is five lashes.”
Shadowheart got down on one knee, her body causing a firm thump with how quickly she took herself down to Karlach’s level.
“I know you can behave, so do not consider disappointing me. Last time, you managed to make it out with only three strikes. This time, I bet we could make it one. Maybe zero, if you decide to be a good girl.”
Karlach nodded as much as she could without jostling the intrusion in her throat.
“Good.”
Without the strength to resume her footing, Karlach crawled after Shadowheart in their departure from their room. They were lodging in the top floor of the Elfsong Tavern for a few nights, and Shadowheart had quite the evening planned for them.
The half-elf’s boots clicked against the wooden flooring, muffled only by the sound of the double doors swinging open. A sense of relief washed over Karlach when she noticed that the upper floor was silent.
For now, she could let the saliva in her mouth go. She drooled messily around the gag, her spittle forming a small puddle on the floor between her mitts. Upon swallowing the rest, regret pierced through her like a dagger as her throat contracted. An audible gag made Shadowheart sharply turn around.
“You’re making a gods-damned mess,” she sighed, shaking her head in resigned disappointment. “You aren’t stupid, are you? I mean, I know you’re a bit of a whor*, but even whor*s have brains.”
Karlach whined.
“I guess that answers my question.”
The yank that Karlach’s lover gave to her leash caused more saliva to dribble from her mouth, soaking her chin. The slick sheen of spit that covered the lower half of her face tempted Shadowheart.
Even done up with leather and chains, Karlach was a sight to behold. The layer of sweat upon her red skin made it sparkle, the infernal flames lapping at her chest to intensify the effect. Her amber eyes glittered and blazed from within her bindings, showing that the tiniest bit of defiance was left in her.
That was fine with Shadowheart. She’d just have to put forth more effort.
She was perfectly capable, after all.
“Would you like your cage tightened some more, Karlach?” she prompted, once again dropping to her knees. “We wouldn’t want you getting hard from this, would we?”
Karlach’s eyes narrowed into slits until Shadowheart’s hand began to migrate toward her cage. Immediately, she cried out from behind the gag and rubbed her thighs together in desperation.
No. No. She was aching so much. She couldn’t take it anymore. She just wanted to be used, if only it would let her free of her bindings.
With a resigned look on her face, Shadowheart connected her tadpole to Karlach’s, if only for a moment.
Need me to stop?
No. Please. Please, don’t stop. I need this.
Okay.
She severed their connection as she stood, black boots squeaking against the floor. She turned her heel and, with a flick of her wrist, Karlach followed.
As they descended the staircase, Karlach almost tripped and fell a few times. Crawling down a flight of stairs was no easy feat, especially on a leash, but Shadowheart kept a steady eye on her until they arrived at the very bottom. The bustling crowd continued to chat with one another, exchanging drinks and merriment among one another while Karlach whimpered and squirmed.
A few eyes were drawn their way, gawking at Karlach’s hunched form. Though her leather chaps somewhat distracted from her caged co*ck, Shadowheart had given her a golden cage that glittered beneath the torchlight. Many of those very eyes settled on Karlach’s cage, and she could hear whispering around her, causing her to curl in on herself.
How shameless of her.
Wish I could get one of my own.
What a dirty little toy.
I would never parade my love around like that.
With every consecutive praise and insult, the tips of Karlach’s pointed ears grew hotter. Not only that, but she could feel her co*ck desperately twitching in her cage. It threatened to grow hard.
She couldn’t. It wouldn’t happen. She let out a choked sob.
“What have we here?”
A familiar voice startled Karlach out of her trance. In a desperate attempt to put a face to the voice, she craned her neck, but it wasn’t quite enough to see the woman’s face.
“Ch’k. You’ve made a fine pet out of her. Of what use does she serve?”
Oh, sh*t.
She didn’t count on any of their companions being present; they had all gone out for the day to search for Orin. Shadowheart and Karlach intended to keep watch over their camp, but their current activities distracted them from doing so.
Oddly enough, Lae’zel didn’t seem bothered.
“Oh, her? She’s my ornament for the evening. Isn’t that right, Karlach?”
Shadowheart’s voice had an eerie tenderness to it, potentially masking her later intentions from Karlach. Gods, Karlach could feel Lae’zel’s eyes on her. This caused her to experience a great wave of unease.
The tip of Lae’zel’s boot connected with the fake co*ck between Karlach’s lips, pushing it an inch or two deeper. The head struck the back of her throat, jostling her windpipe, and she expelled a muffled cry. Something wet hit the floor, and the only thing it could have been was a secretion from her co*ck.
Karlach looked down as far as she could, her eyes widening at the sight of her bright red, weeping co*ck attempting to become erect.
“Would you look at that? You’ve had quite the effect on her,” commented a smug Shadowheart.
“It seems to be so.”
Instead of Lae’zel’s armored boot, she felt the underside of Shadowheart’s leather boot collide with her back, causing her to fall forward. Her co*ck pressing against the floor felt even more painful with the cage that contained it. A pathetic mewl came forth from her lips.
“My, my,” Lae’zel hummed, “It is too bad that I have been given a task to complete before sundown. I would rather like to take part.”
“Next time,” Shadowheart chuckled, “and that’s a promise.”
Satisfied by that answer, Lae’zel walked off while Karlach’s eyes followed her out.
“That was two strikes. You nearly cried, and you moaned when Lae’zel gave you her boot. I expected more,” scolded Shadowheart as soon as Lae’zel was out of earshot.
Karlach’s abdomen tightened. She screwed her lips shut when Shadowheart began to walk again. With every step, Karlach almost tripped over her mitts.
Upon lifting her left arm, she caught a glimpse of what was ahead of her.
The staircase.
They were going back to their room, and Karlach was going to get her ten strikes.
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