Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Essek is in Kymal, treating himself to a spa day in a frankly tacky tourist attraction, when the twisted copper bracelet upon his wrist glows with warmth.

Hallo, Schatz, comes the welcome voice of Caleb Widogast, warm like the salt bath Essek is currently luxuriating in. I hope you are well. Looking for a tome that might be among your things - permission to search for it? Be safe, Liebling.

Twenty-five words exactly; Jester would be proud. Essek smiles at the endearments that Caleb always includes despite the word limit of sending, and the silliness of the request. Essek's worldly possessions, few as they may be, are kept in Caleb's home in Rexxentrum, and he has said time and again that Caleb is welcome to them as often as he likes. "I am well," he murmurs into the bracelet. "Of course you may - you'll have to tell me which one you needed, later." Then, counting his words carefully, "do do doo do doo," in a terrible imitation of Jester's voice, and finally, "I love you."

A second sending comes in a few minutes later; Caleb must be using his own magical reserves to activate his own bracelet, which can only cast the spell of its own power once per day. I love you, Caleb replies, the rumble of his voice echoing sweetly in Essek's mind. You are dearly missed. The book is for a lecture - 'A Study of Dunamantic Symbology,' which I found, but - I have questions, he says, and the tone of his voice is strange, as if -

Oh no.

Belatedly, Essek recognizes the title of the book Caleb had named. It is a book he has owned for quite some time, long enough that he had been living in Den Thelyss when he acquired it. Verin had often wandered into his quarters, then, nosing about Essek's personal belongings; Essek had taken to carefully disguising anything that he wished Verin not to find, including... well.

He doesn't panic, exactly; Caleb, moreso than anyone Essek had ever met, is hardly a prude when it comes to racy literature. He, Jester, and Beau still trade smut books freely, discussing their contents openly enough to scandalize passersby. Essek has read few novels of that particular genre, and owned even fewer - only one, in fact, an old favorite, that he once carefully removed from its binding and adhered to the inside of one of the most boring tomes he owned, in an attempt to keep Verin from finding it.

He's not embarrassed about owning smut, of course. It's more the contents of it, which touch on a very particular fantasy from his youth that might be considered... gauche, among the elite of the Dynasty. The novel is only minimally historically accurate, and a particularly sensitive topic given the Dynasty's origins.

A Slave to His Pleasure, the book is titled - straightforward and salacious as books of this genre tend to be.

A third sending comes through, and Essek realizes he has been too stunned to respond to the last one. It's alright, Schatz, Caleb says gently, No need to be embarrassed. The disguise is clever - I found the correct copy I needed, I'll put this one back.

"You can read it," Essek blurts, before he can think better of it, and ducks his head to hide his flush despite the fact that he is in a private bath; no one can see him in here, let alone through his illusory disguise. "If... you want. Perhaps do not share it with the others? Jester will never let me live it down. It's not exactly -"

He feels the spell dissipate; he has run out of words. Sighing, he casts his own sending. "It's not historically accurate, before you ask," he says. "Just... an old favorite."

Their relationship - their love, Essek thinks, still somewhat giddy at the phrase - is not so new that Essek is embarrassed to share his desires with Caleb. They have done very many lovely things together, not all of which are inherently sexual; Essek is less frequently inclined to physical desire than Caleb is, in general. Over the past few years since their relationship began, though, Essek has found himself more and more drawn to sex with Caleb, as if something has blossomed within him, cultivated with love and trust.

Desire had once been a strange, distant acquaintance to him. With Caleb, desire is now a familiar, welcome guest, and Essek finds himself more and more inviting that guest into his life.

"You'll have to tell me what you think," Essek says, nerves and interest warring in the fluttering of his heart. "I look forward to your... conclusions."

Caleb's reply, when it comes, is murmured low in the voice Essek has now come to associate with very, very pleasant evenings. I will, he promises. I enjoy discovering what brings you pleasure, Schatz. And I look forward to discussing it with you. Be safe, Lieber. Come home soon.

----------

It is, unfortunately, a number of weeks before Essek is able to safely return to the cottage in Rexxentrum where his heart and his home lie - long enough that he has forgotten the book entirely. (A lie; he has thought of it often, but magic is not unlimited and sending is insufficient for more than the most brief of conversations.)

Caleb's home - their home - is warm even in Rexxentrum's frigid winter, the hearth blazing merrily. Essek shakes snow from his hair and shoes, breathing in the smell of hearthfire and cooked meat and home.

Even more welcome than the cottage is the wide smile and spread arms of Caleb Widogast. Falling into Caleb's embrace after a long absence always feels like a shedding of a great burden, as if Essek has been carrying a heavy weight that he is finally able to put down. "Welcome home, Schatz," says Caleb; sending is better than nothing, when it comes to hearing the voice of the man he loves, but it pales in comparison with the real thing - the way Caleb's chest rumbles against Essek's cheek, tucked in against his warmth. "Come, dear. You must be hungry."

Essek's belly rumbles in response, and they both laugh. Caleb kisses him, once, softly, before drawing Essek further into their home, towards the source of the lovely smell of food.

Belly and heart full, Essek catalogues the tiny changes in Caleb's face that have accumulated since they saw each other last while his love catches him up on the latest antics of the Nein and his students at Soltryce. A few new streaks of grey thread through his hair, which he keeps pushing back and out of his face instead of tying it back like a sensible person. There is a white smudge in his beard, right at the corner of his chin, where he has a tendency to tap his chalk while he lectures. His sweater is more cat hair than wool. Essek thinks he might be the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

As their conversation lulls, Essek spots the book on a side table in the living room - its innocuous cover betraying nothing of its contents. "So," he says, nervous but eager. "I'm curious to know your thoughts on my wayward smut novel."

Caleb laughs, wrapping his arm around Essek where they sit on the couch. "Surprisingly well-written, as far as smut novels go," he says, and shifts the book into his lap, opening the cover to reveal the salacious drawing on the first page - a young drow man in profile, dripping with jewelry in his ears and at his throat, staring up with lips parted. A hand cups his chin and tilts it upward, but the owner of said hand is not visible.

Essek's face heats at the casual display; nothing in the drawing is particularly vulgar, but the implication is stark. Caleb brushes a thumb against Essek's cheek, tracing his blush. "There's no need to be embarrassed, my love," he says, gentle. "I own many such books, as you know."

"But I don't," Essek replies. "This really is the only one."

Caleb shrugs. "If it were one or a hundred, I'd never judge you for them, Schatz. Though I do have... questions."

"I'm shocked," Essek deadpans.

"You mentioned that it isn't historically accurate?" Caleb asks.

A Slave to His Pleasure is technically a period piece, though a fairly taboo one, as far as Xhorhassian tradition goes. It depicts the illicit relationship between two slaves of the ancient Lolth-worshipping Drow Matriarchy, the cruel and brutal society that Leylas Kryn had led her followers away from upon discovering the first Luxon beacon.

Slavery had been commonplace in the old Matriarchy, he explains to Caleb; woven so deeply into the society of the Underdark that it was nigh-unheard of for anyone of station to not own slaves. There have been entire historical dissertations written solely on the roles and hierarchies of slaves in the old empire - Essek has even read a few. The Matriarchy had kept labor-slaves, of course, but household slaves and working-class slaves were more common.

The book, however, was centered around a more prized kind of slavery - the famous pleasure-slaves of the Upper Courts.

As a young man Essek had been terribly fascinated with the novel's protagonist, a pleasure-slave to the High Priestess of Lolth herself. Such prized slaves were treated like treasured art - draped in jewels and finery and paraded before the courts as status symbols, and sometimes even displayed as an evening's entertainment.

One of Leylas Kryn's first acts as the Bright Queen had been to abolish the practice - as a violation of a person's rights and a vulgar display of avarice and self-importance. Indeed, the very existence of consecution and reincarnation meant that even the most elite nobles of the Dynasty might be reborn as the lowest servants - how could such a society allow such brutal treatment of any of its children, when they could have been anyone from another life?

But as a fantasy? Essek had been obsessed with the idea. The novel's protagonist was an icon among the Upper Courts - always present at his matriach's side, dressed in the highest of fashions and draped with jewels whose price might feed entire villages. It had been so easy to see himself in the protagonist's place - the center of attention, the most beautiful creature in the room, praised by all who laid eyes upon him.

Saying all of this out loud, even just to Caleb, has Essek radiating embarrassed heat from head to toe, but he somehow gets the words out. It helps that he and Caleb are side-by-side, and he can tuck his head into Caleb's shoulder rather than have to look at his face, or - gods, even worse, have to make eye contact.

Caleb listens attentively, asking questions here and there - until there is no more left to explain, and Essek has laid his desires out in the open for consideration. Caleb is quiet, then, rubbing his fingers up and down Essek's arm in the repetitive, unconscious way he often does when he is thinking very hard.

In truth, Essek has never been worried that Caleb might judge him for his desires - and certainly not for owning trashy romance novels. Essek has always felt curiously free and light with Caleb - with all of their darkest deeds out in the open between them, they have already seen the worst of each other. Odd requests in the bedroom seem terribly trivial in comparison to treason and familicide.

But they both have their traumas as well, and as such there are certain boundaries they are careful to respect in their bedplay. Essek, of course, is not always sexually inclined, and therefore prefers not to be surprised by touch or sexual contact. He has a poor tolerance for pain, as well - he cannot stand to be bitten or scratched, even in play.

Caleb's boundaries, however, are a sight more complicated than Essek's. He can't stand more than the gentlest of touches to his residuum scars, and cannot be restrained in anyway, prone to panic and dissociation in a way that frightened Essek the first time it happened. Sometimes, too, he seems even to surprise himself with what he can or cannot tolerate; they learned the hard way that having his breath restricted in any way sent Caleb into a shaking fit so bad they'd had to call Caduceus.

It is crossing these boundaries - or testing them in any way - that Essek fears, more than any embarrassment or humiliation. Though Caleb does not like to be coddled, or treated as if he is fragile, he is still the most precious thing in the world to Essek.

Essek does not have the best history with precious things, but he has sworn to himself that Caleb will be different.

"What is it about this that interests you, Liebling?" Caleb asks. "Is it the gems and the finery? Or the giving up of control to another?"

A tiny frisson of heat trembles down Essek's spine. "Both, I think," he says hoarsely.

"And - just to be clear, you saw yourself in the role of the, er." Here Caleb seems to be searching for the right word.

"Submissive," Essek says. "The - controlled, not the controller."

Caleb nods. Essek risks a look at his face; though his brows are furrowed in thought, there is a promising glint in his eyes.

"I am not - suggesting we partake in such a thing," Essek says. "It is a fantasy, nothing more. I'm very happy to let it remain so."

Caleb turns toward him; their faces are very close. "Do you want it to remain a fantasy?"

Essek swallows. Caleb does not, in fact, look uninterested. There is a faint pink flush to his cheeks, and his eyes are dilated and dark. Emboldened by what he sees there - interest, even arousal - Essek takes Caleb's right hand in his left and places it firmly on his own wrist.

Caleb's hands are large, especially when compared with Essek's slight frame; when he closes his hand, his fingers overlap on the other side of Essek's wrist. Essek shudders at the feel of it. Firm. Grounding.

"I don't want it to be a fantasy," he says breathlessly.

Caleb grins.

"I have some ideas," he says.

Chapter Text

"You're staring," says Iymril.

"You're beautiful," Taz replies, his eyes sweeping up and down the pleasure-slave's lithe form. Iymril is used to people staring at him in all sorts of ways - out of lust, or longing, or even spite and disgust. But the way Tazennin stares at him - it's different. He's seen the same look on the priestesses' faces, in worship or revelation. Like Iymril is more than just a piece of art on display, or a piece of meat to devour. Taz looks at him like he's beautiful. Like he's special.

Iymril never wants him to stop.

They are in the Tower, now, because Essek's fantasies are complicated, and require - set dressing, Caleb had called it. A specific setting, specific props.

Specific costumes.

Somehow, Essek's fantasies of what he might look like in fantasy pleasure-slave regalia had not included feeling so ridiculous.

Caleb had asked him for descriptions of the things he wanted - in depth. Not just the scene itself - which took more negotiation than Essek had anticipated - but also each piece of jewelry, each item of finery. Essek had been as descriptive as he could - but Caleb's imagination is near-limitless, as he is continuing to discover the longer they are together.

Gods, even the dressing room he had imagined for Essek is incredible. Fine silvered mirrors, endless drawers of cosmetics and brushes and perfumes and lotions. Elegant, draping dressing gowns of silk and tulle and cashmere. A ceramic tub built directly into the floor and large enough to seat four grown men, and as many fragrances and oils and soaps as Essek can even name.

Rather than countless options for adornments, however, Caleb has left him a single mannequin draped in - something. It is not quite lingerie, exactly, but to call it jewelry seems... inadequate, somehow.

The items are not a surprise - Essek hates surprises, and the two of them had imagined each piece individually. Seeing them in reality, though - or whatever simulacrum of reality is conjured by Caleb's tower - is an entirely different beast.

Essek could decline any of the pieces, of course. He could decline anything at all that they have discussed. Neither of them has any interest in playing at coercion or force; they have safewords, of course, but should Essek say 'no' to anything, they will skip it and move on. If any of the pieces Caleb has crafted were to intimidate him, or put him off, he could simply neglect to wear it.

He wants to wear it, is the thing.

None of the pieces of lovingly sculpted satin, metal and gems could feasibly be classified as 'undergarments.' No, the intent of the regalia is to adorn and allure, and be worn before, during, or after sex. None of it disguises his body or covers anything at all. It's vulgar. It's beautiful. Essek loves it.

He's wet now just from putting each piece on; the silvery satin stockings, complete with a fine seam running up the back of his leg to his thigh. The garter belt that keeps them up is finely wrought platinum rather than fabric, each tiny chain link fitting seamlessly into the next to clasp perfectly at his back. Caleb knows his measurements intimately, it seems. Every half-inch along the belt's length dangles a tear-drop shaped diamond the size of Essek's thumbnail, like a belly-dancer's gently chiming accessories. The platinum garters clip securely into the top of each stocking.

Two platinum armbands rest over Essek's biceps on either side, not so much affixed in place as they are enchanted to not slip. Platinum chains, smaller than the garter belt, trail to the diamond-studded bangles around his wrists, jingling with every motion of Essek's hands.

The rest of the jewelry is less avant-garde in its composition, but no less ostentatious. Tiny platinum chains loop from his ear-tips to his lobes, trailing more teardrop-shaped diamonds. A trio of elegant platinum rings, each with a unique design, dot his fingers. There's even a series of hairpins that leave sparkling stars in Essek's hair.

His neck and throat are bare; they have discussed a collar, of course, and Essek still heats at the thought. That is for Caleb to put on him, though; Essek has not seen it yet, and Caleb had refused to share his thoughts for the design.

The last two pieces of jewelry are still on the vanity before him, twinkling merrily in the flickering candlelight of Essek's dressing room. Caleb had seemed surprised by Essek's suggestion, but Essek had nearly salivated at the thought - a pair of tweezer-shaped nipple clips in matching platinum, each leaving a tiny chain dangling with a single diamond on each. The chains, however, leave additional room underneath the diamond - to add weights, should Caleb elect to.

Essek picks up the first, trembling - out of nerves, yes, but mostly excitement. The clips aren't overly tight; Essek detests pain. Rather, they are similarly enchanted to his armbands - once they are on, they will not slip unless purposefully removed. Essek's breasts are small, barely noticeable when he is clothed; naked, though, their gentle curves are on full display. His nipples are already hard in anticipation.

He lifts the clip to it, picturing the effect in the mirror. Then, quickly, before he can lose his nerve, he slips the clip onto the hard bud of his nipple, sliding the band up to secure it in place. He gasps as it tightens - not a hurt, exactly, but a firm pinch with constant pressure that does not let up.

Essek's belly flips, heat pooling in his hips and thighs. It feels - Light, it feels so good, and it is only just the one - and Caleb will - touch it, play with it, maybe tug it back and forth until Essek screams -

Pull yourself together, he tells himself, trying to take steady breaths. He makes short work of the second clip, and has to brace himself with both hands against the vanity once it's on. Bent forward like this, the chains with their diamonds sway freely. Essek looks up at his own face in the mirror.

He looks - maybe it's the arousal, maybe the sweet anticipation of the evening to come, but he doesn't look as ridiculous as he feared. He looks - alluring. He looks like a salacious painting kept in some lecherous nobleman's bedroom. His face is flushed, his eyes dark; his mouth is already bitten plump and wet with wanting.

He can feel himself dripping already, a slick heat making itself known between his thighs. He imagines, for a moment, what Caleb will say about it - before realizing he need not fantasize at all.

There is no more jewelry to put on. Caleb is waiting. Essek selects one of the dressing gowns off of the hanging rack - a sheer, diaphanous white robe that trails to the floor and belts closed with a wide sash at the waist. It conceals nothing; it feels like a cloud settled dreamlike on Essek's dusky violet skin.

He opens the door to his dressing room and crosses into the bedroom. This room, too, is elegant and ostentatious as the jewelry he wears; an enormous bed draped in plum-colored satins sits in the middle of the room, surrounded by an assortment of matching, softly padded furniture. Essek had spent several minutes distracted when he first entered this room, visualizing all of the myriad ways such furniture could be used. Lavender drapery hangs from the ceiling and walls, catching the candlelight and lending the room a dreamlike haze.

Caleb, as they discussed, is waiting on another floor of the Tower; Essek has a bell to ring when he is ready for Caleb to come in and see him like this. He takes some time debating the best way to arrange himself, and elects to drape himself over the bed on his side, the white robe settling into the curve of his waist. He undoes the sash and tosses it aside to flutter onto the floor; one sleeve of the robe slips silkily down his shoulder and he does not correct it. He summons his mage hand to bring him a book, as if he is merely reading in the privacy of his own room in a fortune's worth of diamonds.

He feels good. He feels - sexy, as impossible as it seems. The nerves from before have dissipated with the strength of his arousal. He rubs his thighs together just to feel the slide of his stockings and the wetness at his cunt.

Essek rings the bell.

It is only a few minutes before Caleb arrives at the door; he knocks, ever the gentleman. Essek swallows down the last of his anxieties and calls, "Come in."

Though the rest of their plan has been detailed and carefully calculated, they had decided against any complicated roleplay, at least as far as A Slave to His Pleasure was concerned. There is no complicated system of hierarchies and historical atrocities. He is simply Essek, and Caleb is simply Caleb, and Essek is his pretty pet.

As the door opens, though, Essek is relieved to see that Caleb had done a fair bit of dressing up, as well - Essek would have felt ridiculous to be the only one costumed. He still catches his breath at the sight of him - Caleb is an attractive man even when he doesn't put in any additional effort, but tonight he is resplendent - his hair braided elegantly back, his face clean-shaven. His outer robe is the same as he had worn to the fateful peace-talks in Nicodranas - plain but elegant black on the outside, and an intricately patterned silken red at his sleeves and collar where the lining is visible. He is even wearing a waistcoat underneath, black to match, and a tie at that, red satin in a fashionable bow-tie.

There is a long moment, as Caleb enters, that the two of them simply stare at each other, overwrought. Caleb's mouth falls open just a fraction of an inch as he takes in the sight of Essek in the outfit he'd carefully crafted. He has forgotten to close the door all the way, still clasping the knob in one frozen hand.

"I -" Caleb's mouth opens but he seems to have forgotten the small bit of script they had concocted together. He swallows visibly; Essek watches the bob of his throat and wants to bite it. "Forgive me," he says finally, as words evidently return to him. "I know the hour is late, but I had to see you."

Essek's voice trembles, but he at least remembers his place. "Why, Sir Widogast," he says, raising his eyebrow and trying for an air of unaffected arrogance. "It's midnight; I wasn't expecting you this evening."

"I know," Caleb replies, and now a smile is breaking through his stunned reverie. "But I couldn't get you out of my mind, the way you looked at dinner - the way you look now..."

Essek plucks at the hem of his robe. "What, this old thing?" he flirts breezily.

Caleb closes the door and is across the room in three strides, already barreling into the end of their script. "I brought you a gift," he says, "if you would have it."

Essek already knows what it is - the collar - and he sits up more eagerly than he had intended. "Yes," he says, sounding hungry already even to his own ears, "please."

Caleb draws a long, flat case from his coat and kneels at the foot of the bed where Essek sits. "I know it is presumptive," he says, and now they are off the script entirely. "To think to lay claim to such a beautiful creature. And yet - I would claim not only your body, but your heart also - if you should wish it." He lays the case across both palms, presenting it for Essek to open. "This, and all that I have, and more," he says, "if only I could call you my own."

Essek is genuinely moved - and impressed; they hadn't written that. That was all Caleb. "I would give you my body," he says, "and my heart, and all that was left of me." He does not have Caleb's gift for poetry, and so does not try to match the intensity of Caleb's declarations. He opens the case.

When he gasps, and his hand flies to his mouth, it is not playacting. "Caleb," he breathes. Nestled into the black satin of the case lies the collar - though it is a 'collar' in the same way as Essek's regalia is 'lingerie.' Three interwoven chains of platinum chime softly as Essek lifts them, sculpted intricately around star-shaped diamonds and a single, central, cut amethyst, carved into the unmistakeable dodecahedron shape of a Luxon beacon. Below the amethyst, several teardrop-shaped diamonds dangle from tiny chains, a perfect match to the rest of Essek's jewelry tonight.

"They are interchangeable," Caleb says, showing Essek where each diamond is connected to a tiny clasp. "You could swap them out with another charm, see? To match whatever jewelry you would like it to."

The gesture is very sweet, if confusing; this is the only thing he will ever wear it with. Or so he thinks, until Caleb smiles. "This is real, my love," he says, covering Essek's hands where they balance the collar. "It will not dissipate with the Tower."

To his mortification, Essek's eyes well up immediately in tears.

Caleb draws back. "Only if you want," he amends, as if he has offended, but Essek flings his arms around Caleb's neck in a sudden embrace.

"I want it, Caleb Widogast," he says. "You sweet, horrible man. You - this is a custom piece, you had this - made, right under my nose?"

"I knew what I wanted it to look like," Caleb admits, "right away, I knew. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted you to love it."

"I do love it," Essek half-yells, trying not to sob. "I love it. It's beautiful. You're incredible."

Caleb blushes at this. "May I - put it on you?"

Essek draws himself back and tries to compose himself. "Yes," he says, and now his body has remembered that there were very sexy things happening, before all of the feelings. "Please." He leans forward, shifting in his robe to give Caleb room.

The jewelry looks impossibly fragile in Caleb's wide, blocky fingers, though Essek knows it isn't. Essek wants to feel fragile in those hands, too.

Caleb raises the collar to Essek's throat. Briefly, Essek sees that there is a discreet leather lining inside, to protect delicate skin from pinching in the interlocking pieces of platinum. The diamonds dangle, plink plink plink, against his collarbones and sternum. Caleb deftly closes the clasp behind his neck without needing to look - Essek wonders how many times he had practiced it - and slides his finger gently underneath to check the collar's tightness.

Even the gentle pressure of Caleb testing the collar is enough to make Essek gasp and pitch forward at the sensation. His belly clenches in arousal. "Caleb," he says.

Caleb's smile is wide and his eyes are dark. "Does it feel good?" he asks.

"Yes," Essek breathes.

A firmer tug, then, as Caleb stands and pulls Essek gently to follow. Essek's feet are bare on the ground; with Caleb still in his boots, and Essek going without levitation, Caleb is nearly a full head taller than him. Caleb's fingers leave the collar and trail up Essek's throat to his chin, tilting it up at him. Essek groans as he realizes the similarity to the drawing inside that - wonderful, terrible book.

"May I put my hands on you?" Caleb murmurs.

Essek catches Caleb's hands in his own, squeezing briefly. "Yes," he says.

"Yes, what?"

Essek frowns - they had decided against Essek calling him Master, or Sir - before he realizes. "Yes, please," he amends.

Caleb's grin is wicked. "Please... what?"

Essek's glare is somewhat lessened by the groan that bubbles up from his throat. "Please... put your hands on me."

Finally Caleb relents, his broad hands smoothing over Essek's waist, warm through the sheer dressing gown. He traces the shape of Essek's garter belt around his waist, firm and possessive. "You look so beautiful," he says hungrily, exploring the span of Essek's ribs and sides, all of the skin left bare from Essek's jewelry. Essek whimpers at the praise. "Like the rarest of treasures. My treasure, my Schatz. May I kiss you, my pretty treasure?"

"Yes - please," Essek says, and lurches up onto his tiptoes only for Caleb to draw back teasingly.

"Please, what, Schatz?"

"Please kiss me," Essek gasps -

and he does. It's not a nice kiss - it skips right ahead to dirty, Caleb's tongue making itself at home in Essek's mouth - deep, and claiming. Essek clutches at the front of Caleb's robe - Caleb is still in his clothes, for gods' sake, and Essek has been nearly-naked from the start. He gives himself up into it, like he has given himself up into Caleb's control, sucking on Caleb's tongue and whimpering as Caleb's roaming hand brushes one of the chains of his nipple clips.

"Lovely," Caleb says, pulling back. His hands slide to the collar of Essek's robe. "May I take this off?"

"Yes, please," Essek says, then remembers - "Please take - my robe off."

"Lovely as it is, it pales in comparison to you," Caleb says; he slides his hands underneath the fabric and shamelessly feels Essek up, pushing his hands up his breasts and to his shoulders, and the robe off with it. Essek moans loudlly, his knees beginning to shake under him already, and Caleb guides him back onto the bed in just his jewelry, laying him out across the violet satin sheets. He puts his hands right back on his tits, though, carefully teasing around the clips, cupping the gentle swell of them in his wide palms.

Essek is - Essek is flying, already, impossibly turned on and trembling just from Caleb's collar around his neck and Caleb's hands on his nipples. He clutches desperately at Caleb's robes just for something to do with his hands; the clasp comes apart easily with a flick of his fingers.

Caleb's hands stop, which is a shame. "Did you want something, Schatz?"

"Please take your clothes off," Essek says, anticipating.

Caleb laughs; the sound is addicting. "Eager, Schatz," he says. "Perhaps I will, or some of them, at least."

He stands up, taking his hands off of Essek's tits, which is a shame. Those hands go then to his clothing, though, which is worth it. Essek sits up to follow, to help, but Caleb pushes him back to the bed.

Essek's cunt clenches around nothing. "Easy," Caleb says. "Lie back, let me look at you. May I look at you?"

"Yes," Essek whispers. Swallows hard, and moves backwards so that he is fully on the bed, displayed from head to toe.

"Please... look at me," he begs.

Caleb's eyes sweep up and down Essek's body, lingering here and there - his face, his nipples - the wet shine between his legs. The outer robe drops to the floor with Essek's dressing gown, and Caleb rolls his sleeves up, still looking his fill. Essek bunches his hands in the satin sheets to keep from instinctively covering himself. Caleb pulls his tie free, flicking open the first few buttons of his collar; Essek tries very hard not to salivate at the casual sexiness of the gesture. He's not sure he succeeds.

"Let me see you," Caleb says, stepping towards him. Evidently, he has decided that being dressed creates a delicious dynamic against Essek's nudity. "Spread your legs, Schatz, let me see what I do to you."

Essek whimpers but obeys, spreading his stocking-clad legs. Caleb's hands wrap around his ankles and yank him forward on the mattress; Essek cries out as he feels the slick warmth of his cunt exposed to the air, revealing how impossibly turned on he is.

"Bei den Göttern," Caleb breathes. "Look at you, you're so wet already, Schatz.” He spreads Essek's legs further, ducking in to get a closer look. Essek squirms in his hold, his legs drawing together; Caleb presses them apart, firmer this time.

This man is going to kill him.

"Please," Essek gasps. Caleb looks at him expectantly, but even Essek doesn't know what he's asking for now.

"How long have you been this wet?" Caleb asks, casually vulgar as only Caleb can be. "Not just since I came into the room, I'd wager. Did it turn you on to get all prettied up for me? Did you touch yourself in your dressing room, thinking about it?"

"No," Essek pleads, "I didn't touch myself, I... I liked it, I liked how I looked, I like how it feels -"

"Mmm," Caleb agrees, drawing his hands up from Essek's ankles to his hips, tracing the back of the stockings and their garters before sliding back down the way they came. "I do too."

"Please -" Essek says, "touch me."

"I am touching you, Schatz, " Caleb teases.

Essek groans, frustrated. "Please touch me - higher," he says, and already knows that won't be enough.

Sure enough, Caleb's hands only slide up to his knees, spreading them and rubbing circles into the insides of his thighs. "Here?"

"Please," Essek caves, "touch my - cunt."

Caleb wastes no time. "Of course, Schatz," he says, and his fingers slip between Essek's legs, dragging a slow path through the slick heat and up to Essek's clit.

"Yes," Essek moans, and moans, and moans, as Caleb finally stops teasing and rubs firm, steady circles around Essek's clit - already so swollen, even before the first touch, that he wails to feel it slip underneath Caleb's thumb. "Yes - please - please touch me, touch my cock, don't stop -"

- and he comes, hard and abruptly, after only the first few firm circles, spasming as his thighs clench. Caleb stares down at him, flabbergasted, his thumb pressed hard into Essek's clit from the clench of his thighs. "Did you just -" he asks, and Essek clutches his wrist to keep it in place.

"Please don't stop," Essek begs, and Caleb laughs and resumes his motions. Essek is so fucking wet already - already hypersensitive after such a quick orgasm - but the continued pressure is better, now, his body not so primed and on a hair trigger.

"Gods," Caleb chuckles, "you just came, didn't you? Is that how desperate you are for me? That I can just barely touch your pretty little clit, and you go off like a bottle rocket, hm?"

The last working rational part of Essek's mind wonders, idly, if Caleb practiced all this dirty talk or if it comes naturally. The overwhelming majority of his mind, however, has flipped belly-up and submitted to Caleb so easily that all he can do is beg as Caleb's fingers flick rapidly over his clit, coaxing him to a second orgasm as easily as breathing.

Caleb pulls away from his clit, then, to flick and tug at the clips on his nipples. Essek writhes under the onslaught of sensation, his hands automatically going to cover and protect his breasts; Caleb catches both his wrist and pins them down to either side of Essek's head. Oh, this beautiful man, Essek thinks. He arches up just to feel how hard Caleb is holding him down; it's a lot. Essek moans.

"Don't cover yourself from me," Caleb says. "I want to see all of you. Do you need me to tie your hands?"

Essek's breath hitches; he doesn't need it, of course, but he's suddenly caught breathless by how badly he wants it.

He looks up, trying his best to look challenging despite how wrecked he already feels. "Yes, please," he says, as clear as he can. "Please tie my hands."

Caleb's grin is almost predatory in its intensity.

Restraints are one of the few things Essek enjoys that Caleb doesn't; luckily, Caleb is only averse to being the one restrained, not the one doing the restraining. There's nothing overly complicated on the table as far as restraints go, at least not for tonight, but the black leather cuffs he retrieves are something that frequent their bed these days. Essek goes pliantly where Caleb puts him; first the cuffs go around his wrists, his bangles carefully moved up his arms and out of the way, then the connecting strap secures him to the headboard. To Essek's surprise, though, Caleb then procures two additional sets of restraints - and gestures at his ankles.

Gods, Essek is going to combust before Caleb is through with him tonight.

Caleb checks the tightness of both wrist cuffs and ankle restraints before securing each ankle to the adjacent bedpost. Between the size of the bed and the short length of the restraints, Essek is pinned in place, his arms stretched above him and his legs spread as far as they will go.

"That's better," Caleb says when it's done. "Nowhere to go but here. Nothing to do except lie there and let me look at you, let me touch you, Schatz. Isn't that better already?"

"Yes," Essek breathes, floating.

"I think so too," Caleb agrees. His hands roam freely now across Essek's body - his sides and his chest made vulnerable and put on display. Those hands, thought some distant hazy part of Essek's mind. Pinching at his nipples, tweaking the clamps; sneaking under his beautiful new collar and tugging his head back and forth. Tracing along his ears, a sensitive spot. Massaging his tits. Sweeping up and down his sides, dragging up his stockings.

Caleb leans in close between his legs, and two fingers slide into Essek's cunt like they belong there. Perhaps they do, he thinks. Caleb pulls his fingers out, holding them up so Essek can see the slick positively dripping from them, then brings them to his mouth, putting on a show of licking them hungrily clean. Essek whimpers.

"Schatz," Caleb asks, voice full of exaggerated promise. "May I put my mouth on you?"

"Please putyourmouthonme," Essek babbles.

Caleb grins, the bastard, and turns his face towards Essek's leg. He places a long, wet smooch on the inside of his thigh, then another, higher and closer to where Essek wants it. "Please," Essek whines, but can't articulate further; Caleb slides up and puts his mouth to one nipple, sucking hard around the clamp. Essek wails. Caleb's fingers slide back home, pushing into his cunt; he lies there and lies there, unable to do anything but take it and take it as Caleb sucks his nipples and finger-fucks his wet hole.

He comes like this, too; Caleb's fingers aren't quite hitting the right spot but Essek's gone just from the mouth on his tits, sucking and biting relentlessly until Essek screams. Then Caleb changes up the angle of his fingers and Essek comes again, and again, writhing in his bonds.

"Beautiful," Caleb keeps saying. "Exquisite. And all mine."

"Please, please," Essek sobs.

Caleb pulls finally away from his abused nipples and reaches for the bedside table; he comes back with a pair of tiny weights and a length of chain. "Caleb," Essek pants, "Caleb -"

"Shhhh," Caleb says, "let me make you feel good."

Essek whines as Caleb adjusts the nipple clips, angling them towards Essek's sides. Each clip gets an extra length of chain attached, and then the weight - draping long enough to hang off the sides of Essek's breasts and dangle towards the bed. Essek squirms just to feel them move - gods, every breath he takes will tweak them.

"Good, Schatz?" Caleb asks. He sits back up on his haunches, kneeling between Essek's bound legs; the hand not busy with Essek's cunt works open the fly of his trousers and pulls out his cock.

"Yes," Essek slurs, watching past where Caleb's fingers are buried within him - fuck, he can see the hard pink swell of his cock, stuck out past its hood, begging to be touched again. Caleb slides his hand through Essek's slick and smears it over his own cock.

"Fuck," Caleb says, his head falling back. "The sight of you - the sound of you. You are so beautiful, at my mercy, my - my sweet pet," he says, hips thrusting now into the tunnel of his fingers.

"Fuck me," Essek pleads. "Please fuck me."

Caleb laughs breathlessly. "Not yet, Schatz. I'm not near finished with you yet."

Caleb's head drops forward and his mouth hangs open, wet and red, as he comes, thrusting hard and slow now into his hand to draw it out. Essek moans as the first fat stripe of come paints his belly; Caleb aims the rest lower to spurt across his hips, his thighs, his pussy. He squeezes his hand up the length of it, slow, coaxing the last small bit to drip slowly onto Essek's clit.

Caleb tucks his cock away as he comes down from his high, but doesn't bother to refasten his trousers. "Now, Schatz. What is it I can do for you, hm?'

"Please," Essek begs instantly. "Put your, your mouth on me, on my cunt, please suck my clit, please -" and Caleb, ever the gentleman, puts his mouth to his cock and sucks the come off of him, hard.

Essek shrieks as Caleb's fingers, too, resume their thrusting, a third and fourth finger slipping in easily - gods, he's so wet that it's easy, making Essek wonder what his thumb would feel like, or his hand -

But that isn't something they'd discussed when planning tonight, so Essek cries out and yanks at his restraints as the suction on his clit ramps up and he comes. Caleb keeps him there on that edge, tongue circling and fingers thrusting fervently; one orgasm bleeds into two, into three. Essek's cunt is clenching so spasmodically that it keeps forcing Caleb's fingers out, only to drive into him harder. It feels - fuck, Essek's never had an orgasm like this, he might -

"Oh, Schatz," Caleb moans as Essek's orgasm peaks even higher and slick gushes from his cunt, splashing out of him with every thrust of Caleb's fingers. "Fuck."

"Don't stop," Essek shrieks, "don't stop don't stop -"

"Never," Caleb breathes. Essek comes again. The weights pull at his nipples as his back arches as far as it can go, restrained as he is; sensation like lightning surges through his tits and down through his core. Caleb sucks. Essek comes screaming. Fluid gushes from his cunt; Caleb drinks him down like a man starved.

This was not on their script. It wasn't even something Essek thought he could do - come again and again without end, let alone - squirt, he thinks, giddily, he's squirting - his come painting Caleb's chin and throat. His body is alight with sensation. Caleb's bonds are around his wrists, his ankles, and his collar is around Essek's neck, and Essek is his - at Caleb's command, Caleb's mercy, and he'll come as often and as much as Caleb wants him to.

In the end, they are both only mortal. Caleb breaks away from him for air, fingers sliding free of the wreck he has made of Essek's pussy. Essek's trembling legs clench and unclench, the muscles of his thighs jumping. He'll be sore tomorrow, surely, ruined and aching from Caleb's sweet torture.

"Look at you," Caleb says, as he finally catches his breath. "You've made a mess of the bedsheets, Schatz. The way you're dripping for it, one would think you really are the most treasured pleasure-slave in Exandria."

Essek moans, still too overcome to find words. His slick cunt drips unimpeded, pooling beneath him in a massive wet spot; his clit is still swollen hard from suction and arousal. Caleb reaches for the buttons of his waistcoat and finally strips it off, shucking his shirt as well. His trousers, he has to stand up to remove, but he speaks all the while, filth dripping from his silver tongue. "My pretty pet," he says. "Coveted by every soul in Exandria. A living work of art. Perhaps I'd be the noble holding your leash," he says, his hard cock springing free as he sheds his undergarments. "And you'd be my personal entertainment, displayed before my court - so they could all see how wet you are for me, how obedient, how good-

Essek squirms at the thought, and his nipples ignite in pain as the weights bounce and pull on his tits. "Ah - ah - Reality Break," he manages, calling for a pause, and Caleb drops immediately to his side, concerned. "My - the clips, please, it hurts -"

Caleb winces and goes to remove the band, warning, "It'll hurt when they come off, love, just breathe now," and Essek fair screeches at the fire that rips through him as the blood rushes back into his abused nipples.

"Shhhh, that's it, Schatz." Caleb massages the upper parts of Essek's chest in sympathy. "Would you like some water?"

Essek nods, tipping his chin up so Caleb can hold the cup at an angle he can drink from. He takes a few sips, wetting his dry mouth. "I don't want to stop," he says.

"Okay," Caleb agrees, and Essek loves him for not questioning his certainty.

"I want you to fuck me," Essek continues.

Caleb smiles, a bit of the sharp edges coming back in as they resume their scene. "My poor pet," he says fondly. "Have you come so many times that you've forgotten your manners?"

Essek shudders. "Please fuck me," he says.

Here, at least, Caleb doesn't deny him again. "I'm going to," he says instead. His hands drop to Essek's ankles, undoing the restraints there. "Can you move for me?" he asks. "I want you on your knees."

Essek nods, trembling. The cuffs around his wrists can swivel freely on their connected strap, he knows. Still, Caleb has to help him to fully turn over, supporting his hips and back. Slowly, carefully, Essek manages to get his knees under him, leaving his upper body stretched out and his face and chest pressed against the mattress.

The satin is cool and soft against his cheek. Caleb's hands pet down his hips, tugging him closer, and then he is lining himself up and pushing - and without resistance, Essek's hole hungrily pulls him in, sore and aching for it.

"Fuck," Caleb grits out, "you are so wet - and hot, like a furnace -"

Essek whimpers at the thick slide of Caleb's cock, pleasure and overstimulation warring in his cunt and his clit. His tits ache from the clips, but the satin is divine on his abused nipples; Caleb holds him at the hips and fucks into him, deep and slow. Essek's knees slide wider, his ass tilting up. "Please fuck me," he moans into the sheets, "I want it."

"How do you want it, Schatz?" Caleb asks, breathless already.

Essek's cunt throbs. His clit feels like a brand, hot and cooling in the air. His hole aches, stretched and clenching around Caleb's cock, hard and filling him so deep. He hates it. He loves it. He never wants it to stop.

"Hard," he says. And remembers. "Please," he says, turning as much as he can to look pleadingly at Caleb's face over his shoulder. "Please fuck me hard, and slow, and deep," Essek says. There is no shame or embarrassment here, only the fuzzy haze over Essek's mind and Caleb's love in his heart. "Use me," he says, the words falling from him like pearls overflowing from his hands. "Fuck me until you come - make me come until I cry - please just - use me however you want -"

"That's a good pet," Caleb says, and fucks him.

Time goes away, for a while, as Caleb's cock drives into him hard and slow and deep, just like Essek had asked. Essek cries and cries out as Caleb nails him to the mattress, cock striking over and over the sensitive front wall of his cunt. His jewelry chimes and rings with the rhythmic movement, a constant reminder of his role - a beautiful, insatiable pleasure-slave, Caleb's to do with as he pleases. He does not have to think, or move, or do anything but spread his legs and let Caleb fill him with his cock. Slick dribbles down his thighs as he starts to come again, peaking higher with every shove of Caleb's cock into his g-spot, stimulating his clit from behind.

He is distantly aware that at some point, Caleb reaches up and undoes the strap connecting his cuffs to the headboard; strong arms wrap around his waist and shoulders and hoist him up and back against Caleb's chest. Caleb guides his hands back and over Caleb's head, locking them together with Essek's wrists now bound behind them both.

Caleb's hands push and pull at Essek's hips, helping him to lift up and slam back down, the force of Essek's weight driving Caleb's cock impossibly deeper. Essek bounces and bounces, harder and faster, crying out at every thrust, his thighs screaming in protest but his cunt throbbing for it. One of Caleb's broad hands cups Essek's tit gently, mindful of his nipples, and the other drops to Essek's cock.

Essek screams as he comes - immediately, at the first touch of Caleb's hand to his clit. The hand on his breast slides up to his neck, a firm pressure over the collar he'd commissioned, just for Essek, for his pet. Essek wails and shudders, his bouncing motion forgotten, as Caleb grinds his cock in deep, circling Essek's clit with his hand in hard, steady motions. Essek twitches to pieces there, trapped by Caleb's hands and his cock, helpless but to come - which is what he does, over and over, squirting slick across Caleb's thighs and their bed. Caleb yanks his hips down hard and he can feel Caleb coming too, grinding up so hard that Essek swears he can feel his cock in his throat.

Essek pitches forward, then, and Caleb catches and guides him down to lay on his back. Caleb lies there with him, too, panting, sweat and come drying tacky between them. Eventually, Caleb shifts, pushing himself back up on one elbow, and traces a slow line from the collar at Essek's throat and down between his breasts. He pets Essek's belly, smearing sweat and come and gods-know-what-else. Essek's body is a live wire of sensation, still sparking.

Caleb's hand dips lower, still, across Essek's mound, and cups warmly over his cunt. At first Essek thinks he means only to soothe, until Caleb's fingers dive deeper, tracing around the dripping heat of his hole.

He can't be serious. "Caleb," Essek breathes, incredulous.

"Do you think you can come again?" Caleb asks - his tone is light, and Essek knows there's no pressure if he says no, I can't, I'm finished.

But he is Caleb's, tonight.

"I don't know," he says truthfully.

Caleb drags just his pointer finger slow and mean across Essek's clit; Essek's legs spasm. Caleb kisses his cheek, his face, his neck. The hood of Essek's clit slips wetly up and down under Caleb's questing finger.

"Do you want me to stop?" Caleb asks.

Essek's body feels like it has nothing left to give; he's never pushed his own pleasure this far, never had reason to. And yet, for Caleb, he finds - he wants to try.

"Please don't stop," he whispers.

"Gods," Caleb says, his face awed. "You really mean it, too. You'd let me make you come as many times as I wanted, and you'd beg me for more after."

"Yes," Essek breathes. "Yes, I'd let you - anything," he says, flying again through the delightful haze that is submission to Caleb's will.

"How many more times do you think I could make you come?" Caleb asks, a question and a threat all in one. "How many times would you let me make a mess of you, before you begged me to stop? Until I was hard again, and could fuck you all over again? Would you let me keep you here in my rooms, waiting for me to use you like you want to be used?"

"Yes," Essek whimpers, and the finger on his clit moves faster.

"Are you going to come?" Caleb asks.

"I don't know," Essek wails, squirming; he isn't sure whether he is trying to move towards or away from the gentle torment of Caleb's finger just teasing the hood of his clit up and down.

Caleb shifts himself up to sit against the headboard, and tugs Essek up to straddle his lap, his back to Caleb's chest. He taps Essek's clit gently with the tip of his finger; Essek practically shrieks with each touch. "Do you want to try?"

"Yes," Essek pleads, "Yes, please - please make me come again -"

"How many times?" Caleb asks.

Essek can't think, can't process that thought. Caleb's finger spreads wetness around Essek's cock with every slow sweep, driving Essek's pleasure and overstimulation higher and higher. He doesn't have the presence of mind to come up with an answer, can barely even breathe around the bonfire Caleb still stokes in his belly.

He'll have to trust Caleb's judgment, then. "As many times as you want," he says. "I - I'm yours. Please - make me come as many times as you want, I need it - I need you."

"My beautiful pet," Caleb whispers in his ear. Essek tilts his head back against Caleb's shoulder and a hand slips around his collared throat - not pressing, just holding. "Can you give me three more? And if you can't, it's alright, we can stop."

"I want to try," Essek says.

"So good for me," Caleb tells him. One finger on Essek's clit becomes two, rubbing in steady, gentle circles. Slowly, surely, Essek feels his body responding again, coaxed into bloom under Caleb's guiding hands. "That's it," Caleb breathes at his ear. "Let me do this to you, Schatz. Let me make you feel good. Does it feel good?"

"So good," Essek says, his hips starting to thrust - chasing the pleasure Caleb's fingers promise. "I'm - yes, Caleb, I'm going to come again, I'm going to - ah -"

Essek comes on a long wail of Caleb's name, thighs twitching hard enough to hurt. Caleb's hand doesn't slow, maintaining those same steady circles, trying to coax Essek into a second orgasm right on the heels of the first. Essek clutches at his arm with hands still cuffed, pressing his hand in hard, and is rewarded with the fingers of Caleb's other hand plunging in deep, spearing deep into Essek's puffy, used hole. Essek's legs flail, spreading wide across Caleb's lap to make room - Caleb gives him three fingers, jabbing in deep, coupled with a rapid flicking of his fingers across Essek's clit - faster, faster, relentless -

Essek comes again hard enough that it hurts. His cunt clenches around Caleb's fingers so tightly that he fears he might break him - and - yes, he's squirting again, fluid dribbling down Caleb's hand with every sweet, agonizing thrust.

He squirms away as the overstimulation kicks in, and Caleb takes his hands off of him. "Need to stop?" he asks. "Or can you come once more for me?"

"I can't," Essek whines. "I can't."

Caleb hesitates; Essek can feel his frown against the back of his neck. It's not a no, or a safeword, or any of the signals they had agreed upon. "Is it that you can't, and you don't want to?" he asks. "Or you think you can't, but you want to try? I don't want you to push yourself for me, Schatz."

Essek's chest heaves. The fine platinum of his jewelry is stuck to him in places with sweat. "I don't think I can come again," he says, finding more clarity. "But... if you want to try... I will try. One more."

"You are incredible," Caleb says.

"I think I need to lay down, though," Essek tells him, and Caleb chuckles and helps him to do so, unbuckling his cuffs as he goes. On his back, his legs hurt less, and he tells Caleb as much. Caleb smiles and wriggles under Essek's legs, hoisting Essek's thighs onto his shoulders to support them.

Fuck, Essek isn't going to survive this. Caleb - Caleb is going to suck his cock, again, and Essek trembles at the thought.

But Caleb's mouth is soft when it meets Essek's clit, the gentlest of kisses pressed to the swollen nub. It's good, somehow, soft enough to soothe. His freed hands fall to Caleb's soft, sweaty hair. Caleb kisses his clit again. "Easy," he murmurs, practically into Essek's cunt. "Soft and slow, my love. I'll get you there."

"Yes," Essek sighs, and gives himself up to it. Caleb's tongue is soft, collecting more slick from Essek's hole and dragging it slowly up and around his clit. It feels - unspeakably good. Essek still doesn't think he can come, necessarily, but this slow worship is good, too - feeling used, and owned, and still cared for.

Caleb eats his pussy for long minutes, never pausing for more than a few seconds of air before returning to his gentle ministrations. His soft tongue draws slow, easy circles around Essek's clit; every so often he'll pause to suck gently, or slip his hood up and down. Essek stretches his hands up above his head and luxuriates in the heat of Caleb's mouth, coaxing him slowly but surely to one last, mindblowing orgasm.

And Essek is going to come again; he can feel it now, just beyond the slow, syrupy slide of Caleb's tongue. He tilts his hips up, making tiny, aborted movements into Caleb's mouth that become more and more fervid the longer Caleb tends to him. Caleb smiles around his mouthful of clit as Essek starts downright riding his face.

"You're going to come for me," Caleb says between wet, slurping kisses. It's not a question. Essek shivers at the obscene, slick sounds that come from Caleb's mouth and tongue buried in his cunt.
"Please," Essek slurs, helplessly sinking into Caleb's rhythm. The edge is there, just within reach; Caleb's tongue quickens and his sucking intensifies, but it's still not enough. Essek whimpers.

"What do you need?" Caleb asks.

"More," Essek begs, and Caleb shifts enough to slip two fingers into his cunt. They don't thrust, just curl sweetly against Essek's walls beneath where Caleb's mouth works. "More," he says again.

"Touch your breasts for me," Caleb tells him. Essek complies, moaning at the ache and pleasure. "Play with your nipples - gentle, Schatz. That's a good pet. Don't stop."

Caleb reaches up with the hand that was in Essek's cunt and smears slick fluid across both nipples before his fingers return to their place. Essek gasps and moans and pinches at his nipples, slick and sliding wetly between his fingers.

"Are you close?" Caleb asks.

Essek groans, frustrated, the edge still just out of reach. "I - I can't, Caleb, please - I need - I need to come, but I can't, I -"

"Shhhh," Caleb hushes him. "Be patient, Schatz. Trust me. I'll get you there. Relax."

Essek does his best to obey; Caleb's tongue and fingers never stop. Essek strokes and pinches his own nipples, but it still isn't enough.

"Please," he says, and reaches for Caleb's hand, the one not busy making a home for itself in his sopping wet pussy. His leg slides off Caleb's shoulder, deepening the angle of his fingers. Essek clutches at Caleb's hand and brings it, trembling, to his own throat. "Please," he says. "Please."

Caleb sucks his clit, his tongue flickering and circling, never stopping. His fingers press and curl right where Essek needs them, pulling his hips forward and into his mouth. Essek plucks and twists his own nipples, pinching them until they stand tall and hard, aching with need. Caleb looks up at him; his broad hand presses into Essek's collar. His mouth detaches wetly from Essek's clit, hard and pink and swollen like a proper cock.

"Come for me, pet," Caleb says, and leans down and sucks.

Impossibly, Essek does.

He isn't there, in his body, for a while. His last orgasm rips the breath from his lungs and the soul from his chest. He has no more energy to worry about crushing Caleb's head between his thighs; his body is a series of white hot points of unbelievable pleasure - his clit, his nipples, his hole. Caleb works him through it all with soft, lingering touches, a few lavishly wet kisses to his twitching clit. Essek lies there after, fuzzy and soft, and catalogues the next few minutes as if distantly, through a cloudy lens. Caleb lifts him up from the ruined bed and carries him easily to the dressing room and its tub. His jewelry comes off easily, piece by piece, under Caleb's tender care.

The collar stays.

Caleb washes him more gently than Essek might have ever imagined, careful at his breasts and between his legs. There is some sort of thick, herbal salve in a tin that Caleb works slowly into Essek's nipples, which immediately alleviates some of the ache. Essek smells his own soap and hair products and lets Caleb wash his hair and massage his scalp, drifting in the easy haze between submission and reality as Caleb takes care of him.

Caleb has already carried him back to bed when Essek finally resurfaces from his drift; the sheets have been changed and Essek's favorite cozy robe is wrapped around his body. Essek's face is pressed into Caleb's shoulder as his lover holds him, cradled in the curve of Caleb's arms.

"That was... incredible," Essek says, finally in possession of his voice once more.

Caleb chuckles. "You were incredible, Schatz. Radiant. Exquisite. I am... honored by your trust in me."

Essek stares dreamily up into Caleb's lovely face. "I gave you my heart long ago," he says, "and despite all else, you treated it tenderly." He strokes the line of Caleb's cheek. "I want to give you everything else, too," he continues. "All of me is safe in your hands. I have never felt so safe, so alive, as when I am in your care."

Essek drifts again after, this time to sleep - true sleep, not trance. His last thought before sleep takes him, then, is that they will almost certainly be doing this again.

Though perhaps it should wait until he has had a few weeks to recover.

Chapter Text

“So,” Caleb says. “You liked it?”

Essek laughs, still giddy. “Obviously,” he says, gesturing vaguely down between his legs.

Caleb grins. “Was there anything particular you liked more than the rest? Or anything you didn’t like? The clamps, clearly.”

“The clamps weren’t bad,” Essek says. “I - I really liked them, actually, it was just too much with the weights near the end.”

“Noted,” Caleb says. “Anything else?”

Essek shrugs, snuggling further into his robe and Caleb’s arms. “I liked the part where I came a lot,” he says cheekily.

“I noticed,” Caleb says.

“I want to do it again,” Essek tells him.

Caleb outright laughs. “Give me a few hours, Schatz.”

“Not anytime soon,” Essek agrees. “But… perhaps the near future.”

“I have… some thoughts, for more things we could try,” Caleb says, and Essek shivers at the promising tone in his voice.

“Caleb Widogast,” he says. “You will be the death of me, and what a lovely death it will be.”

“Or several small deaths, perhaps,” Caleb suggests. “You certainly are sensitive to that sort of thing, clearly.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Caleb looks down at Essek, whose cheek is pillowed on his shoulder. “How do you feel… about edging?”

Chapter Text

"I wonder," Essek says, "if you would indulge me in a repeat performance, tonight."

Caleb looks up at him from across the sofa, closing his book without marking the page. Essek has always envied him that picture-perfect memory of his. Recently he has begun to wear a pair of half-moon spectacles while reading or writing, the wire frames a brassy color that offsets the copper gleam of his hair - braided back, today, after Veth had visited this morning. Caleb complains that his glasses make him look older than he is. Essek thinks they make him look distinguished. 

It has been several weeks since Caleb had collared him for the first time; nearly a month. Caleb, though, does not seem to need clarification on exactly what kind of 'repeat performance' Essek is looking for - judging by the slow rise of his eyebrows and the immediate hunger in his gaze.

"There is very little," Caleb says, "in which I would not indulge, for you."

They've had sex since then, though only twice - Essek is less sex-driven than Caleb, usually. Even when he does want sex, he rarely has the stamina to come more than twice, or three times if they're feeling particularly adventurous. 

Essek still isn't sure how many times he'd come that night. He doesn't have Caleb's memory, after all.

"Is that a yes?" Essek asks, trying for coy and ending up more in the realm of 'eager.'

"Give me an hour to prepare," Caleb answers, and grins.

Baths are drawn; the Tower is cast. It seems to Essek to be a similar layout as before, though he knows Caleb has made a few 'tweaks,' in his words - though he hasn't let Essek in on what specific changes he'd made. Essek's dressing room seems exactly the same as the last time, with the exception of the jewelry adorning the mannequin - no garters or stockings this time. 

Instead, a series of pale, rose-hued golden chains now drape artfully across Essek's torso, perfectly fitted to his measurements. They connect at his shoulders, his sternum, his wrists, and his hips, forming a single piece; at each junction is a ring of the same pale gold, inset with tiny blush-pink stones in a perfect circle. Essek isn't sure what the stones are - rubies, or perhaps some sort of pink topaz or tourmaline? 

In his ears go three pairs of hoop earrings studded with the same tiny pink gems. There's even a tiny pink stud for Essek's nostril piercing. No clamps this time - just two more rings of gold and pink that adhere magically to the bud of each nipples, decorating without pinching. A pair of rose-gold bangles adorn each of Essek's ankles; they chime together merrily when he moves. 

Essek is grateful for the mannequin, otherwise he might not have understood how to get into the torso piece. He's still confused about the place at his throat where the chains connect - one each from his shoulders, and a third that trails between his breasts. They seem like they might impede the collar, when Caleb puts it on him. Or perhaps Caleb has other ideas? The chains are ever-so-slightly too long, draping awkwardly over Essek's collarbones. He wonders if he put them on wrong - perhaps Caleb will have to fix them for him.

Essek takes the time to apply a small amount of makeup, which he'd skipped the first time; the pink gems have inspired him. He brushes a delicate layer of shimmering rose powder across his eyelids, and a glossy lip stain that does not so much add color as it does luster. He rarely wears this particular cosmetic - it smears terribly. Perhaps Caleb will like the look of it, when Essek has been properly ravished.

As before, there are a variety of dressing gowns hanging in a beautifully carved wardrobe, organized by color and cut. Essek chooses one in a dusky mauve, obscenely short and sheer. It will leave Essek's legs, bare save for the bangles, on purposeful display. Caleb had chosen a set of jewelry even more provocative than the last time; the least Essek can do is match his obscenity. He doesn't even bother to tie it closed with the provided sash.

Essek opts to walk rather than glide into the bedroom, charmed by the bell-like sounds of the bangles as he walks. Caleb is already here, which is unexpected; last time Essek had some time to situate himself before inviting him in.

The message is subtle, but Essek understands it immediately - last time, they were in Essek's domain. This time, they are in Caleb's. 

There is a desk against the wall, opposite the foot of the bed, that hadn't been there before. A few books and papers cover its surface. Essek wonders if Caleb means to fuck him over it, and  his heart flutters. 

Caleb is seated at said desk, and turns to face Essek as he enters. His finery from the first time is nowhere to be seen; rather, he is in an outfit Essek has seen him wear to his classes at Soltryce. A well-cut, brown tweed blazer with Caleb's favorite red bow-tie only partially obscure a pressed white shirt and beige trousers with red suspenders. He's still wearing his glasses; perhaps he means to play the role of professor? 

Caleb's eyes rove unabashedly over Essek's more risqué state of undress. Essek resists the instinctive urge to cover himself, standing as tall as his height will allow and letting Caleb look his fill. 

"Every inch the pampered pet," Caleb says, soft enough that Essek wonders if he meant the words only for himself. Essek preens under his gaze and lets his short robe fall open, the swell of his breasts and the sparse white hair between his legs on full display. 

"Ah," Caleb says, and opens a drawer of the desk to bring forth the flat black case that holds Essek's collar. "Just one more thing."

The case opens to reveal the interlocking platinum pieces of Essek's collar, the central amethyst gleaming even in the low light. Caleb taps the gem delicately with only his fingernail so as not to leave a smudge, and the platinum metal ripples before a rose-gold hue spreads from the amethyst, eventually encompassing the entire collar. The honey-and-musk scent of transmutation hangs in the air as Caleb shifts the collar to match Essek's current jewelry.

"Come here, pet," he says, and Essek goes, shuddering. Caleb is all confidence and hunger tonight; Essek wants him to eat him alive.

Caleb's hands go to his waist and tug him the last foot or so, firm but not rough. At least, Essek thinks, he will not have to beg and plead for Caleb to touch him, tonight. 

Or maybe he will.

Up close, Essek sees now what Caleb's intent is with the collar; the clasps at the collar's bottom edge are empty, and Caleb reaches up to Essek's throat to undo the chains of his body jewelry and attach them to the collar instead. One hand slides boldly under Essek's robe and up his back, drawing the final golden chain up Essek's spine, and hooks it securely into the back of the collar as he clasps it shut around Essek's neck.

"Perfection," Caleb says.

Essek swallows just to feel his throat bob under the leather lining. Caleb hooks two fingers under the collar at the nape of his neck, and tugs him gently back. Essek tilts his face up with the motion and meets Caleb's mouth halfway.

The kiss is surprisingly gentle in comparison to the way Caleb has touched his body so far. Essek's lip gloss sticks and slides between them as Caleb teases his lips open with his tongue, gently nipping here and there. Essek tangles his tongue with Caleb's and shudders as Caleb's hand slides up into his hair, not pulling but stroking softly over Essek's curls.

"You look beautiful, Schatz," Caleb murmurs between kisses, the hand not in Essek's hair resting low on Essek's back. "I should have jewelry like this made for you in the real world, that wouldn't vanish with the Tower. Beauty like yours should be displayed. Adorned."

Essek pants into Caleb's mouth at the thought of wearing Caleb's jewels day-to-day. He could wear them under his clothes, maybe even surprise Caleb with them - let Caleb unwrap him to find him wet and wanting underneath, draped in the most obscenely provocative lingerie imaginable.

"I'd like that," Essek manages, before Caleb quiets him with lips and tongue. Essek clutches at the lapels of Caleb's blazer and lets him kiss him and kiss him, nipping at his lips and sliding his tongue over the sharp points of Essek's canines.

It seems like an eternity before Caleb finally breaks the kiss, both of them breathing heavily. Caleb doesn't stay away long, pressing wet, sucking kisses to Essek's ears, his jaw, the tendons of his neck. When his mouth meets the collar, he pauses to bite at Essek's throat, hard - Essek gasps and flails, hands finding purchase in the back of Caleb's jacket. Essek's skin is dark enough that bruises don't always show, but Caleb seems intent on turning this one nearly black.

"I have a few ideas, for tonight," Caleb says, once he is satisfied with the lovebite. "But first, another gift for you." He cups Essek's cheek, gentle now, and looks him right in the eyes. "You must say, Schatz, if you do not want it."

Essek nods, and Caleb reaches into his breast pocket and produces -

- well, something. Essek isn't actually sure what it is.

At first glance it seems to be a ring, but it's too small for even Essek's slim fingers. It's a tiny hoop of rose gold, studded with more pink gems, but there's a clear front and back, with the gems only covering one side. Caleb gestures for Essek to take it. The jewels are so seamlessly integrated with the metal that Essek could close his eyes and he wouldn't be able to tell where the gems end and the circle of metal begins.

It's a perfect match for the enchanted rings that adorn Essek's breasts - but last he checked, he did not have a third nipple.

He looks curiously up at Caleb. "What is it?"

Caleb's smile is sharp at the edges. "Do you have identify prepared today?"

Essek blinks, disoriented by the change in tone. He does, in fact, have the spell prepared today, but undressed like this he lacks both his arcane focus and his components.

Caleb, however, seems prepared for this obstacle; out of the same breast pocket he draws two items - a tiny, oddly-shaped pearl, and the diamond-shaped platinum pendant that serves as Essek's focus.

Essek takes both and cradles the pearl and the ring in one hand, passing the pendant over his hand in concentric circles that begin small and gradually widen. The incantation for identify is simple, a repeated Undercommon phrase invoking focus and understanding.

The spell takes sixty seconds to cast; when it is done, the pearl glows briefly with sparkling starlight, and Essek feels the knowledge of Caleb's gift strike clearly into his mind as if he'd known it all along.

He drops the ring. 

Caleb laughs and bends to retrieve it as Essek recovers from his shock. "It's - it goes..."

"Around your clit, Schatz," Caleb murmurs, his voice rough and low. "Where it will stay, until I speak the deactivation word."

Strictly speaking, that isn't true, Essek knows. His identify spell had granted him the word along with the rest of the knowledge of the ring's function. He takes Caleb's meaning, though - he intends for only himself to control the ring, for Essek to let him use it how he pleases.

There are three words, in fact. One to activate and deactivate the enchantment that will keep the ring in place. One to make it vibrate. And the third - 

"You said you wanted to try edging," Essek says, realizing.

"I did," Caleb says wickedly.

The third word, when used, will prevent Essek from coming until Caleb allows it.

Light. What sweet torture his lover has planned for him. 

Their bedroom games have strict rules, for the sake of both of their sanity. Caleb has been very straightforward with his intolerance for cruelty - whether given or received. But to make a cruelty of pleasure... 

Essek may have bitten off more than he can chew. But he does love a challenge.

"Yes," he says. "I - I want it."

Caleb grins. "There's more," he says sweetly.

"You're going to kill me," Essek says, breathless.

"This part does not require spellcasting to explain," Caleb promises, and crouches near the foot of the bed. There is a handle there, now, where there hadn't been the last time; Caleb pulls it and a wide drawer slides out from under the bed, and unfolds like the rooms in the lower floors of the tower.

The table - no, the bench, Essek realizes - is low, at a level with Essek's hips. It's narrow - only two or three feet across - and padded with leather that curves invitingly. It's a saddle, unmistakably, intended to be straddled, just wide enough that it will hold Essek's thighs open without pushing the limits of his flexibility. A small circular socket is set into the center. Behind the seat, on the flat, unpadded surface of the bench, are a series of toys in a variety of shapes and sizes. Each has a flat, circular bottom, the same size as the saddle's socket.

"Luxon's balls," Essek swears.

"If it's too much, you need only say so," Caleb says, his tone serious. "I know this is all very - complicated."

"Complicated is one word for it," Essek breathes. "The one I'd use would be 'diabolical.'"

Caleb's expression is becoming uncertain; Essek holds his hand up to head off his spiral into self-doubt. "Diabolical in the best way," he clarifies. "You mean for me to - mount this thing." Essek can't help a slightly-hysterical laugh. "And to - to deny my... pleasure."

"Yes," Caleb agrees. "I realize it is a lot to ask."

"Not at all," Essek tells him.

"You were so responsive, last time," Caleb says, by way of explanation. "It was - very inspiring, Schatz, make no mistake. So inspiring that I found myself... curious, you might say. Curious as to how sensitive you would be, strung up at my mercy, able to come only when I allow it."

"Absolutely," Essek says. "Yes. Without a doubt. I want that."

Caleb beams. "I know we have not tried anything like this before," he says, "which is why I wanted you to identify the ring. I would like very much if you would allow me to control it myself - but you have the keyword, and can deactivate it yourself should you need to. And - our safewords, of course."

"Haste for go, Reality Break for 'slow down', Time Stop for a full stop," Essek recites.

"I know," Caleb continues, "that last time you became - overstimulated, near the end. I know it can be... difficult, to think clearly, when one is overwhelmed. You trusted me to know how much you could take, and I am honored by that trust. But this is new to both of us, and I do not want to push either of our boundaries. If you become too affected to answer when I ask, we will stop immediately."

Essek nods. "I understand," he says. "And I appreciate the sentiment."

"Do you have any more questions? Or concerns?" Caleb asks.

Essek thinks. "You will - let me come. Eventually."

"I will," Caleb says. 

"How... how many times?"

"How many times will I let you come?" Caleb asks. "Or how many times will I deny you?"

"Both," Essek concedes.

"I hadn't decided," Caleb admits. "I had perhaps thought - three times, with the edging, and then - until you ask me to stop, after."

"Only three times?" Essek asks, before he can think better of it.

A surprised grin splits Caleb's face, wide enough to show teeth. One of his incisors is ever-so-slightly crooked; Essek has always found it endearing. Now, it seems almost predatory. "Do you think you can take more?" he teases.

"I - maybe," Essek says, now second-guessing himself.

"How about this," Caleb offers. "We'll start with three, and I will check in with you. If you think you can give two more - for a total of five - then I'll let you decide how you come, after. If you want to stop at three - then I decide."

"You wicked creature," Essek says delightedly.

"Guilty as charged," Caleb says, cheeky. "One more thing - the last thing, Schatz, I promise."

"Uh-huh," Essek says, unconvinced.

Caleb reaches for the row of dildos and picks up an item that is definitely not a dildo. Essek doesn't need identify to recognize an Immovable Rod when he sees one. Attached to this particular Immovable Rod is a pair of well-worn, padded leather cuffs. 

Essek shoots him a look. Caleb just grins. "It wouldn't be a challenge if you could just use your hands however you wanted," he says. He points at the sides of the saddle, where there are wider padded restraints - for Essek's thighs. "And these, to help with your balance."

The saddle is not so tall that Essek's feet will be off the ground, but he appreciates Caleb's concern for his safety. "Do your worst, Caleb Widogast," he says.

Caleb smirks. "Oh, Schatz. I will. Never you fear."

Chapter Text

"Do your worst, Caleb Widogast," says Essek.

Caleb smirks. "Oh, Schatz. I will. Never you fear."

Essek half expects Caleb to pounce on him then and there, but instead his lover takes the pearl and pendant that Essek still holds and tucks them away safely in the top drawer of the desk. Feeling bold, Essek follows him, pressing himself against Caleb's back, and sliding his hands under Caleb's brown blazer, aiming to untuck his shirt and find the pale skin underneath.

"Ah-ah," Caleb chides, "that's not for you, pet. Not yet." He wraps his hands Essek's wrists and extracts himself, turning them so Essek is against the desk and Caleb is looming over him. Essek remembers his thought about being fucked over this desk and thrills at the idea once more.

Caleb uses his grip on Essek's wrists to place Essek's hands on the edge of the desk. "Keep your hands there, Schatz. Let me see what I have to work with." Essek swallows and wraps his fingers around the edge obediently, leaning back to give Caleb a better view of his upper body.

"Mmm, very nice," Caleb praises. Essek preens. Caleb's thumb brushes over his lips, smearing his lip stain. Essek turns his head to take Caleb's thumb into his mouth, biting gently - a suggestion, not a hurt. Caleb hums again, removing his thumb and coming back with his first two fingers, pressing Essek's mouth open further. An involuntary sound, not quite a moan, escapes Essek's throat.

Caleb grins. He trails his fingers down Essek's chin, trailing saliva and lip gloss, and drags them down and then up again, following the line of the chain between Essek's breasts. Essek's robe slips off his shoulders as he arches, pooling at his forearms where his hands are still gripping the desk.

"Beautiful," Caleb says, and replaces his fingers with his mouth. He plants kisses along the chains draped across Essek's collarbones, nipping gently at the skin underneath, though not so hard as to leave a mark like the one on Essek's throat.

Essek keeps his hands where they were put, but Caleb had said nothing about holding still. In one fluid motion he hefts himself up to sit on the desk, and wraps his legs around Caleb's thighs, pulling him in closer. Caleb makes an approving sound against Essek's sternum.

"Eager, Schatz?" he teases. "Remember, you don't get to come until I say you can."

"I haven't forgotten," Essek breathes.

"Well, in that case," Caleb chuckles, and drifts down to kiss Essek's breasts. Essek sighs, moaning softly as Caleb's lips close around one nipple, jostling the ring that rests lightly around the hard bud.

"How does it feel?" Caleb murmurs. "Any pain?"

"No," Essek says breathlessly. The hoops are a tease rather than a pinch like the clamps had been, so light that Essek can barely feel them when Caleb isn't touching them. "It's good, it's - nice."

Caleb hums. "I suppose I can allow a bit of nice," he says, "for now." He tugs gently at Essek's nipple with his teeth, making him arch and gasp. "Will you allow me to try something, Schatz?"

He holds up the enchanted ring and gestures at Essek's tits, telegraphing his intention. Essek nods eagerly, and Caleb speaks the vibration command word - "Summen.

The ring's pink gems glow as it comes to life with only the most barely audible hum. Caleb holds it gently between thumb and forefinger, and touches it gently to the hoop around Essek's nipple.

Essek jolts and squirms as the metal buzzes loudly - the barest of vibrations teasing his nipple, a tiny point of heat and sensation. "Ah, ah," he pants, leaning into the touch. "Yes -"

Caleb pinches his other nipple, tweaking it in a delicious counterpoint to the gentle vibration in the other. "Aufsummen, he says, and the ring buzzes harder as its enchantment amps up abruptly.

Essek giggles - it tickles, and he writhes away from it as the sensation goes from good to too much too much too much, yelping. His feet kick involuntarily, the bangles chiming. "Stop - stop -"

Caleb takes the ring away immediately, concern writ in the lines of his face. "Schatz?"

"It's fine, it's - ha, it just - tickles," Essek says, and Caleb's expression turns to a laugh.

"Noted," he says with a grin. "Shall I put it away?"

"I still want it," Essek tells him, "just - maybe not with the, the rings, and the. Buzzing."

"Your tits are so sensitive," Caleb says, and drops his mouth back down to soothe them with his tongue. Essek moans loudly, barely remembering to keep his hands on the desk and not in Caleb's hair like he wants to. Caleb's wide palms fall to Essek's thighs, spreading them and stepping closer so that he is pressed fully against Essek's naked cunt.

"Mmmm," Essek says eloquently, grinding forward as much as he is able. His pussy slides wet and sticky over the front of Caleb's pants; he can feel Caleb hard in his trousers against him. Caleb allows him a few precious seconds of grinding before pulling himself back and sliding two fingers into Essek's cunt without preamble.

"Oh," Essek shouts, hands flying up to Caleb's shoulders and holding on for dear life. Caleb tuts and his fingers slide back out. He takes both Essek's wrists again and presses them back to the edge of the desk.

"Stay, pet," Caleb warns. "I don't want to tell you again."

Essek shudders hard at Caleb's tone. He nods and wraps his hands around the edge once more, full of half-formed ideas of what Caleb might do if he disobeys again.

That isn't the game, though. Essek wants to be good.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, looking up through his lashes. "I won't move again."

"That's a good pet," Caleb coos, feeling up Essek's tits. "I know how good you can be. Who can blame you for being excited?" His hands go back to Essek's thighs. "Stay still, Schatz, just let me play with you. My treasure, my pet."

Essek moans as Caleb pushes back into his cunt, two fingers thrusting and curling sweetly against the sensitive place inside. "I know what you need," Caleb says. "You can't help yourself, pet. Just the barest of touches to your pussy, and all those thoughts go right out of your pretty head."

Caleb's voice is doing things to him, spilling filth into Essek's ear. He cries out as Caleb's teeth close around his earlobe, tugging at the row of hoops that clink clink together as Essek writhes. His hips jerk as Caleb fingers him, slow and steady.

"That's why you have me, isn't it, Schatz?" he whispers. "For the control you lack, hm?"

Caleb's fingers slide wetly out of Essek's hole and spread his slick around before honing in on his clit, circling gently. Essek cries out, clutching at the desk hard enough that it might even leave marks on his hands; he's not allowed to move them, so instead he spreads his legs as far as they will go and humps hard into Caleb's hand. "Yes," he gasps, "yes -"

"You came so quickly the first time," Caleb says, "with barely a touch to your cock. Such a sensitive pet. Are you close, Schatz?"

His fingers circle faster, lighting Essek's clit up like a lightning rod. "Yes - yes - I'm going to -"

Abruptly, Caleb's fingers freeze. Essek humps desperately up, trying to chase the sensation and pressure, and Caleb yanks him back by the collar. "No, you're not," he says firmly, and Essek wails. "Good pets don't come without permission."

Essek's hips jerk, orgasm just out of reach. He pulls against Caleb's hold, cutting off his own air for a blissful moment before Caleb lets go, pulling him against his chest. "That's it, Schatz," he soothes, stroking Essek's hair as Essek twitches and gasps, the edge falling away. "That's good, you are so good. That's my good pet."

Essek leans into Caleb's chest as his breathing slows, his pulse throbbing in his clit. "Fuck," he says, once words come back to him. "Fuck me."

"If you're good," Caleb chuckles. "That was one, my love. How do you feel? Do you want more?"

"Yes," Essek says immediately.

"Two more, then," Caleb says.

"Four," Essek corrects stubbornly.

Caleb's grin is wickedly sharp. "We'll see," he says. "Can you move, Schatz? Your throne awaits."

Essek groans, but smiles against Caleb's shoulder. "You may have to help me," he admits.

Caleb wraps his arms around Essek's waist and helps him to stand, his robe fluttering to the floor once freed. Essek's knees are shaky, but he manages to cross the bedroom to the saddle without stumbling. He stands in front of it and frowns. "How do I -"

"Here," Caleb says. "Let me show you." There is a dark wet patch at the front of his trousers; Essek wonders if it's his own precome, or Essek's slick. Probably a combination of both, he thinks. He wonders if Caleb would let him lick it off.

"Would you like to choose a toy?" Caleb asks. "Or would you like me to?"

Essek stares at the row of dildos, considering. His core throbs, aching to be filled. Is there a strategy here, he wonders? Should he pick something small, to make edging easier to bear? Or will he be unsatisfied without something thicker?

In the end, he shakes his head and shrugs. "You choose," he says.

Caleb takes no time at all to pluck the toy he wants from the collection - he must have already had one in mind. The phallus is of middling size, shorter than Caleb's cock, though not by much. The shaft of the toy is narrow, only an inch or two in circumference, but flares out to a bulb-shaped tip that curves ever so slightly forward. Essek knows this particular toy - it presses deliciously right into Essek's g-spot. It's one of his favorites for just that reason.

Caleb strokes the toy fondly, making a show of the way his fingers wrap around it. He slides an attachment of some kind onto the toy's base, which clicks perfectly into place in the saddle's socket. Caleb pushes the toy this way and that, satisfied when it doesn't move at all.

"It may be best if you are able to seat yourself first," Caleb says. "And I'll help you with the rest."

Essek nods. He steps up to the saddle, frowning as he realizes that Caleb has placed the toy so that its curve points the opposite direction as Essek had imagined. "This way," Caleb says, turning him gently. "Facing the bed, Schatz."

Ah, Essek thinks, understanding. Caleb means to sit on the bed, and Essek will be his entertainment.

There is a small footstool beneath the saddle, to aid in mounting it. Essek places one foot on it and swings his other leg over, Caleb's hands steadying him as he goes. With the aid of the step, Essek is tall enough to straddle the dildo without it bumping him.

"Easy does it," Caleb tells him, and reaches between Essek's legs to part his folds. Essek trembles, bracing his hands on Caleb's shoulders as he sinks down.

The bulb of the toy is sometimes a bit of a stretch; this time, however, Essek is so wet from his missed orgasm that it slides easily in, the rest of the narrow shaft quickly following. Essek's mouth falls open on a moan as he seats himself fully on the toy, his ass meeting the saddle's smooth leather.

Caleb watches hungrily as the toy disappears inside him. "Gods, you take it so well," he says. "Alright so far?"

Essek nods, squirming a bit to feel the toy's bulb press and rub. He's already panting, the phallus' insistent pressure a tease compared to what he really wants. "It's good," he breathes.

"Good," Caleb echoes. "Now your legs, my love."

Caleb so rarely uses pet names in Common that when he does, Essek's insides always go molten and syrupy. He tries his best to be still as Caleb removes the stool and gently pulls Essek's thighs into the leather braces, making sure his feet can find purchase on the floor. The restraints buckle securely around his thighs, buttery-soft leather cradling him against the saddle.

"How is that?" Caleb asks, sliding his fingers under the leather to check the fit. "Do you feel stable?"

Essek pushes his feet against his floor to test how far he can move within the restraints; he gasps as his cunt slides up and down the toy. He can only push himself up a few inches, but the leather around his thighs provide enough support that he could ride the toy for longer without tiring.

"It's good," Essek answers, voice blurry with arousal, and holds his wrists up for the next round of restraints.

"Behind your back, Schatz," Caleb tells him, and Essek obeys. The padded leather cuffs are a familiar presence compared to everything else they are experimenting with tonight; it helps to ground him amongst the molten arousal in his veins and the hazy fog of submission descending in his mind.

"Comfortable?" Caleb checks.

Essek rolls his shoulders; rather than cuff his wrists together, Caleb has adjusted the Immovable Rod to use it more like a spreader bar. Essek's hands rest about a foot apart, held secure as Caleb clicks the rod into place. The position draws his shoulder blades together, forcing his spine straight and his chest presented prominently.

"Good," Essek says once more, and it sounds dreamlike even to his own ears. Being restrained was once a subject of fear for him, unable to fully trust any of his previous partners with such a vulnerability. Wrapped in Caleb's collar and Caleb's care, though, Essek feels only reassurance; Caleb would never hurt him, or take advantage of him. Caleb will take care of him.

Caleb presses a kiss to his cheek and tests each restraint one more time to make sure they are tight enough to support without cutting off blood flow. "Stay like this for just a moment, Schatz," he tells him. "I won't go far."

Essek nods and lets himself drift as Caleb bundles up the unused toys and tucks them safely away. The room is warm, likely to accommodate Essek's nudity; the fire in the hearth and the warm lamplight lend a soft glow to all of their surroundings. Essek can hear the rustle of fabric from behind him before Caleb steps up behind the saddle, straddling it right behind Essek so that their hips are flush together; Essek can feel his cock pressed snugly against his ass.

Caleb's arms slide around him, pulling him gently back to rest against his chest, mindful of the Immovable Rod and the bend of Essek's joints. Essek lets his head drop back onto Caleb's shoulder with a sigh. Caleb's blazer is gone, but Essek can still feel the leather of his suspenders and book holster against his back.

"You are so lovely," Caleb murmurs in his ear, hands roaming freely. Essek moans as those broad palms sweep over his waist, his tits, making the chains of his body jewelry jingle with every touch. Essek can't place exactly when he started rocking his hips against the saddle and the toy, but on each rock back Caleb meets him with a thrust of his own, grinding his still-trapped cock against Essek's ass.

"I should have put a mirror in here," Caleb says, "so that you could see how lovely you are. Would you like that next time, Schatz? If I made you look at yourself when you come, so you could see what I see?"

Essek hums in answer, hips jerking as Caleb's hands move again - one to rest firmly over the collar at Essek's throat, and one to rub gently at Essek's clit. Essek's throat bobs as he cries out at the stimulation, pressing himself into Caleb's hands.

Caleb chuckles low in Essek's ear. "Do you like that, pet? When I play with your pretty clit?"

"Yes," Essek groans, eager. His clit is swollen and tender from Caleb's earlier attention, slipping in and out of its hood as Essek moves.

"Yes, what? Be specific, Schatz."

Gods damn this man and his stupid sexy voice. "Yes," Essek relents, "I - I like it when you. Touch me. When you... play with my clit."

"Ah, I thought as much," Caleb agrees, and wraps his fingers around Essek's clit like he's stroking a proper cock. His thumb slips the hood of Essek's clit wetly up and back, holding it to expose the full, round bud; his first two fingers split to the sides, giving Essek a tiny space to fuck into. Essek moans, unable to do anything but hump helplessly as Caleb teases his clit over and over. "That's a good pet, so responsive for me. Keep going, Schatz, I want you as hard as I can get you."

A spark of heat lances through Essek's body at that; he bites his lip to keep from shouting out. The restraints around his thighs and Caleb's arms around him keep him from moving too far; all he can do is squirm and rock back and forth. Forward, and his hard clit fucks between Caleb's fingers; back, and the toy inside him grinds into his g-spot, lighting up his nerves like sparklers.

"Caleb," he gasps, unbelievably close to coming already. "Caleb. I - I'm going to. Please, I'm so close -"

Caleb slows his fingers but doesn't stop gently circling Essek's cock. "Not yet, Schatz. We haven't even gotten to the best part."

The hand at his throat vanishes, and Essek can feel Caleb's arm move behind him. After a few seconds Caleb holds his hand out in front of Essek's face so he can see the vibrating ring presented for his approval.

"Yes," Essek cries.

"Hold still for me, pet," Caleb says, and Essek does his best despite his trembling. Caleb's fingers press firmly around Essek's clit to expose it as he slips the ring into place.

"Festhalten," Caleb says, and Essek feels the ring's enchantment flare to life as it seals itself to Essek's clit.

Fuck, it already feels so good, like a tiny mouth wrapped around him. Caleb taps his clit a few times to make sure the ring doesn't move; Essek's voice goes ah, ah, ah, without his permission at each tap. Caleb chuckles and speaks the second command word: "Summen."

Essek shrieks as the ring buzzes to life. It had been good on his nipples - on his clit, it is ecstasy. Bright, hot pleasure zips from his clit to his hole, and he clenches down hard on the toy inside him - gods, it feels incredible, like a tiny gravity well sucking at his clit - he's going to come. It's too much. Essek grinds and humps at the toy, writhing as the ring drives him higher and higher - he's - gods -

"Frieren," Caleb murmurs.

Nothing happens - or at least, nothing seems to. Essek chases the suction of the ring, slick dripping down the toy and the saddle, and Caleb's hands fly to his tits, pinching, rolling his nipples -

"Fuck, Caleb -" Essek shouts, sure he is about to come, but -

- he can't.

He can't.

Essek wails with the realization and Caleb laughs.

"Absummen," Caleb says, and the ring's buzzing stops. Essek whines and writhes, aching for a release that will not come. Caleb's fingers still play at Essek's nipples, gentler now as Essek twitches and his orgasm slips away from him again.

"Caleb," he begs, "please - please let me -"

"That's not the game, pet," Caleb reminds him. "Three times, remember? Or five, you said, if you still want to try for it."

Essek sags forward as much as his restraints will allow, panting. Fuck, maybe he has bitten off more than he can chew. Only two edges in and he's a wet, desperate mess. Three seems impossible - five? Will he survive it, if he tries?

But what blissful agony it would be.

Essek never could back down from a challenge.

"I can do it," he says, trying to sound determined rather than desperate.

"There's my good pet," Caleb smiles.

His weight disappears from behind Essek as he stands, circling around to sit on the edge of the bed in front of him. He's not as unaffected as he has been pretending, Essek sees with a rush of vindication. Sweat beads at his throat and his forehead, collecting in his hairline and turning bright copper to a darker brown. Essek's slick has left a horrid mess at the front of his trousers, soaking through the fabric enough that Essek can clearly see the hard line of his cock. He's discarded his bow tie already, and as Essek watches Caleb unclips his suspenders as well, leaving himself in only shirt, trousers, and book holsters.

Gods, Essek loves that holster. Caleb isn't a broad man as far as humans go, from what Essek has seen - but the leather straps perfectly accentuate the lines of his shoulders, the breadth of his chest. A hint of ginger curls peek from his open shirt; Essek's mouth waters.

Caleb's hands drop then to his trousers, and in a matter of seconds his cock is freed, thick and red. White precome smears its length. Caleb takes himself in hand and strokes.

Essek's mouth falls open; Light, he realizes, he's literally panting for it.

Some of his hunger must show in his expression; Caleb hums as he thrusts lightly up into his fist. "Don't look so jealous, Schatz," he says, steadier than Essek would be. "You may not be allowed to come, but I certainly am."

"Let me suck you," Essek says, and feels his face heat as the words leave his mouth.

Caleb chuckles, his breath coming heavier. "Oh?" His cock slides through his fist, growing wetter and wetter as Caleb spreads his precome around it. "Would you like a treat, pet? I suppose you have been good, so far."

"Yes," Essek pants, "I - I've been good. I want it."

"Hm," Caleb says, "I suppose there's no harm indulging my sweet pet. He's been so very obedient, after all."

Caleb stands, stepping up to the saddle, his hand never leaving his cock. With his free arm he reaches behind Essek and clicks the button of the Immovable Rod. Essek's hands are still cuffed behind him, but he can lean forward now, and he does, moaning as he shifts around the toy inside him.

Caleb's cock is as hard and flushed as Essek is sure his own must be. He bends at the waist, straining forward. Caleb meets him halfway and taps his cock gently across Essek's lips.

"If you need to stop, and you can't speak," Caleb says, "snap your fingers and I will stop. Can you do that for me, Schatz?"

Essek's tongue darts out to wet his lips, collecting a drop of precome that drips from Caleb's cock. He snaps his fingers once to demonstrate.

"Good pet," Caleb says, winds his left hand through Essek's hair, and feeds him his cock.

Cocksucking is not a frequent act in their day-to-day sex lives. It's not that Essek finds it unpleasant, exactly; he likes the idea of being in tune with Caleb's pleasure, likes the sounds Caleb makes when he does it. In practice, though, giving blowjobs is a messier affair, and Essek is - prissy, to put it bluntly. Caleb's cock is too big to fit comfortably in Essek's mouth, and his gag reflex is - unfortunately - extremely pronounced. And the taste - precome is one thing, but he hates the taste of spend, even Caleb's. Spitting or swallowing are both out of the question; on the rare occasions that Essek does suck his cock, Caleb knows not to come in his mouth.

Here and now, though, the messiness of cocksucking is what appeals to him. He is already a wreck, but there's no room for self-consciousness or shame with the way Caleb looks at him now. He wants to make Caleb feel the same overwhelming bliss that Essek has this evening. He trusts Caleb to honor his limits and know what he's capable of.

Already, Caleb is demonstrating just how much he knows of those limits. His hand is still closed around the base of his cock, stroking gently and preventing Essek's mouth from descending further than is comfortable. The thick head slides easily back and forth over Essek's tongue, leaving salty precome in its wake. Essek closes his eyes and falls into that hazy headspace, almost meditative in the rhythm of Caleb's thrusts and the security of the restraints.

Caleb's other hand wanders, stroking Essek's hair and cheeks in turn. His breath is heavy, labored; good, Essek thinks, he's making him feel good. Essek licks and sucks and breathes through his nose, lets Caleb fuck his mouth as much as he dares. When he strokes Essek's hair, he is careful not to pull; every now and then he wraps his fingers around Essek's collar to steady him.

"Fuck, Schatz, you feel so good," Caleb moans, as affected as Essek has heard him all night. "Your mouth is a gift, pet - so hot - fuck, that's it," he says as Essek does something particularly inspired with his tongue.

Essek can't help the muffled sounds that escape from his throat as Caleb begins to fuck his face in earnest, careful not to push too far in. "You are so good," Caleb says, and Essek basks in the praise. "I want you to feel good too, my love."

Essek moans around his mouthful of cock as Caleb speaks the activation word and the ring around his clit begins to buzz again. Bent over like this, his clit is nearly crushed against the leather of the saddle; the pressure and suction overwhelm him almost immediately, and he chokes.

Caleb pulls back before Essek can even snap, petting through his hair as Essek catches his breath. Caleb's cock is red and weeping, trailing precome and spit as he jacks himself off right in front of Essek's face. The hand not stroking his cock falls to the back of Essek's collar and guides him gently upright.

Essek isn't even sure what sounds he's making now - all he can do is bounce up and down on the dildo as the vibrations of the ring drive him insane. Caleb moans praise and encouragement at him, but Essek is too far gone to make out most of the words. He does salvage enough presence of mind to close his eyes and mouth at Caleb's warning - just before a long, satisfied groan announces Caleb's orgasm and he comes all over Essek's face and chest.

Ordinarily, Essek would find this disgusting - he does a little bit even now, but it fades in the face of the sheer agony of the blissful suction on his clit. Caleb tucks his cock away into his trousers after the last shocks subside, and lunges forward to kiss and lick his own spend from Essek's face.

Essek's legs tremble from the exertion of riding the toy inside him, but there's nothing he can do but hump away at the saddle, unable to come and ripped apart by the sweet torture of the ring. Caleb clicks the Immovable Rod into place, further back than it was before, and Essek writhes as he's pinned in place, stripped of even the small range of movement that he'd had.

"My pretty pet," Caleb says, still breathing heavily. "It must be such torment, hm? Unending pleasure with no release. Do you want to come? I've half a mind to let you."

"Please!" Essek begs immediately, "please, please - let me come, I need it - please, Caleb, I need to come, I need to come, please let me -"

Caleb's breathless laugh eclipses Essek's pleas. He touches Essek's clit with just his thumb, pressing the ring harder against him. Essek howls, his begging descending into incoherent wails. He grinds back as hard as he can, shoving the bulb inside him against his g-spot; assaulted from both sides, his clit jumps and twitches under Caleb's hand.

"Ask me nicely," Caleb says. "Beg me for it."

"Please let me come," Essek cries.

"You can come any time you want, pet," Caleb reminds him. "If you're able, of course."

Essek tries. He really does. The tightly wound spring in his belly refuses to release, held tight by the magic of his clit ring. "Please," he whimpers, "please turn it off, please make me come, I can't - I need it, please please please -"

"No," Caleb says sweetly, and pinches his clit hard.

A scream rips from Essek's lungs; his voice breaks on it. "Absummen," Caleb says, and the ring goes quiet. Essek isn't sure whether it's mercy or torture. He slumps in his bonds, sobbing, his clit burning like a brand and his cunt fluttering around the toy. Caleb presses soothing kisses across his face and shoulders, his hands flying to the buckles of Essek's restraints - first the cuffs, dangling from the Immovable Rod still held in place, and then the thigh restraints.

Unbound, there is nothing to hold Essek upright except for Caleb's body. Essek sags against him, hissing as the movement jostles the toy inside him.

"Easy, Schatz, I have you," Caleb says. He reaches between Essek's legs and the saddle gives a soft click, the bulbed dildo free now of its socket. "Breathe for me," he instructs, and Essek does his best to relax as Caleb gently pulls the toy free.

A gush of slick from Essek's cunt follows - unfair, he thinks almost hysterically, how wet he is without even getting to come. Caleb lifts him by the waist and eases him carefully from the saddle, turning him gently to lay him out across the bed.

Essek is shaking so hard that for a moment he thinks madly that he will simply disintegrate from the strength of it. Caleb gently massages his legs, working down from his thighs all the way to his feet, then moves on to his wrists; he repeats this sequence several times until Essek has regained enough coherence to wipe tear tracks from his face.

"Are you well, Schatz?" Caleb asks, concerned.

Essek must look a mess; he nods anyway. "Overwhelmed," he croaks. "But good."

Caleb smiles and kisses him. "Still want to try for five?" he asks.

Essek hesitates for only a second; his clit hurts in the best way. "I want it," he says anyway. "I - I trust you."

Caleb leans in and presses a soft smooch to his mouth. "You honor me, Schatz. I'll be gentle, I promise."

He grabs a few pillows from the head of the bed and helps Essek to prop himself up on them, supporting his neck and his hips. Essek spreads his legs and Caleb settles between them, pressing the softest of kisses to Essek's aching cock. Even just that touch has Essek's legs spasming; Caleb runs soothing hands up and down Essek's thighs.

The clit ring stays in place, but Caleb doesn't activate it. Instead, he bends his head and takes Essek's clit gently into his mouth, not sucking or licking - just holding him against the soft heat of his tongue. Essek sighs, eyes fixed on how good Caleb looks between his legs, his mouth full and his eyes closed in concentration.

Essek is no longer restrained, but he isn't sure if he's allowed to touch; his hands flutter uncertainly before Caleb notices and guides both hands to his hair. Essek cards his fingers through the soft red strands and tries not to pull too hard.

Caleb bobs his head up and down, lips soft around Essek's aching clit. "Summen," he says softly, and Essek hisses as the ring begins to vibrate again. "Niedersummen," Caleb says quickly, and the buzz subsides to a gentle hum, more tolerable in its lower intensity.

Essek moans as the soft humming of the ring and the wet pressure of Caleb's mouth bring him once more to the edge. His cunt spasms and clenches around nothing. Essek realizes belatedly that he's yanking hard at Caleb's hair, but his lover doesn't seem to mind; he likes it, Essek knows. Essek fucks up into his mouth and lets the helpless noises in his throat spill over.

It isn't long before he's begging again, but Caleb just draws back and deactivates the ring once more. The fourth edge is less painful than the last, but no less frustrating. Caleb doesn't give him long to whine before he's fumbling with his trousers to free his cock - how in the world is this man still wearing clothes?

"Yes," Essek groans as Caleb pushes his legs apart and slides home without hesitation. His cunt squelches obscenely with every movement, spilling slick freely. Essek wraps his arms around his lover and holds on for dear life, giving himself up to it. His body aches and his limbs tremble, but it feels so good to have Caleb inside him, filling him up; he wraps his legs around Caleb's thighs and lets himself float away into that sweet, thoughtless fog of pure submission to Caleb's will.

"Summen," Caleb grunts once more, and Essek screams.

He wants to come. He wants it so bad he can taste it, desire and oversensitivity warring within him. The buzz of the ring consumes him, shaking him down to his bones; he can feel his cunt clenching hard around Caleb's dick and a slight pain in his shoulder as Caleb gasps and bites down. His cock shoves hard against Essek's hypersensitive walls and Essek can't help the shrieks that spill out of him in response.

Caleb fucks him hard and relentless, whispering an endless stream of Common and Zemnian that Essek can only assume is absolute filth. "Das fühlt sich so gut an," he says, "Götter, wie geht es dir so nass - take it, that's a good pet, you take me so well - fuck, Essek, I can't - ich komme, ich komme!"

Caleb's arms squeeze hard at Essek's waist as he jerks and spills inside him, his last few thrusts sparking agonizingly as he fucks his come into him. Essek cries and begs and clutches at him, whimpering as Caleb slows - gods, if only he could come, but -

"Absummen," Caleb manages as he comes down from his orgasm, and Essek sobs as he is yanked back from falling over the cliff.

Caleb's weight on top of him is a welcome pressure as Essek jerks and convulses from five missed orgasms in a row. His clit hurts like an open wound. Inside him, Caleb's cock gives a few valiant twitches before his lover pulls out with a satisfied hum.

"That's it, Schatz, you did so well," Caleb soothes him. "It's done, you did it, that was five. Let me reward you now."

"Please," says Essek, his voice blurry with want. "Please make me come, I need it -"

"I know," Caleb tells him, and reaches down to remove the ring.

"Leave it," Essek whimpers, "just - I want to come -"

Caleb kisses him. "Okay, okay," he says. "Tauen," he commands, and Essek recognizes the word that will deactivate the enchantment preventing him from coming.

"Fuck me," Essek begs.

Caleb winces. "I can't right now, Schatz," he says sheepishly.

Essek groans and fists his hand in Caleb's hair. "Suck me, then," he says, and Caleb's eyes go glassy and dark. "Make me come."

"With pleasure, pet," Caleb says, and then, the bastard - "Summen."

Essek howls as the ring resumes its sweet torture, but it feels so good now that he knows he can come. Caleb dives into his pussy face-first, spreading him wide and shoving his tongue inside him as far as it will go - licking his own come out of him, Essek realizes. The hand not clenched in Caleb's hair flies to his own breast, rolling his nipple just for the stimulation of it - his thighs squeeze and he tries not to suffocate Caleb between them.

Between the ring and Caleb's clever tongue, Essek can feel the coil in his belly tightening again; his back arches as he is assaulted by unimaginable pleasure. Just a little more, and he can come -

- but it doesn't happen. Gods, maybe he can't, maybe Caleb has ruined him -

"Aufsummen," Caleb gasps into his cunt, and finally Essek feels himself tip over the edge as the buzzing increases -

"Fuck yes," he wails as his pleasure crests and he's finally coming, Light, it's so good - sweet ecstasy tears through him and he clenches down hard as his cunt gushes, his clit throbbing and twitching. Caleb replaces his tongue with three fingers and fucks him through it, nailing him over and over in the exact spot Essek needs it.

"That's it, Schatz, you are so beautiful," Caleb says, and seals his lips around Essek's clit.

Essek shrieks, fucking into Caleb's mouth, the heat and vibrations plunging him into a second orgasm hard on the heels of the first. His hole clenches so hard that it forces Caleb's fingers out, but his lover just shoves back in, relentless. Come spatters harshly down Essek's thighs, wet and messy. "More," he demands, lit up with euphoria, and Caleb fingerfucks him harder.

"More," Essek says again, "give it to me - fuck me, fuck me, fuck me-"

Caleb hums his assent and sucks his clit hard, tucking his pinky in along with the rest of his fingers and shoving his hand as far into Essek as it will go - gods, he wonders if Caleb could fit his whole hand inside - his fist, maybe - and he comes again and again, wailing and writhing in agonizing bliss, until he nearly blacks out from the force of it.

Dimly he is aware of Caleb breaking away for air and deactivating the ring, tossing it aside to clatter across the floor. His fingers stay inside Essek's cunt, though, and Essek sobs as the ring is replaced by Caleb's thumb, flicking back and forth -

"Oh gods," he wails as Caleb drags yet another orgasm from him. "What are you -"

"Until you beg me to stop, Schatz," Caleb pants. "Do you want me to stop?"

Essek's cock is on fire, too hard and swollen to fit back in its hood. He doesn't answer, can't answer, as Caleb leans down again, lips slipping up and down Essek's fat pink clit and sucking.

Essek whimpers through one more orgasm that feels as if Caleb has sucked it out of him by force; one hand pushes weakly at Caleb's forehead. "No more," he moans, "I can't -"

Caleb pulls away immediately as Essek trembles with the aftershocks. His cunt is so tightly clenched that it hurts as Caleb slips his fingers free. "You are so good," Caleb murmurs. He presses kisses to Essek's belly and slides his hands soothingly up his thighs and over his hips and sides. "A marvel. My treasure. Rest now, I have you."

Essek can't speak; his trembling escalates into uncontrollable shaking. Caleb gathers up the sprawl of his limbs and holds him through it. It feels like he his keeping the pieces of Essek's soul from flying free of his ruined flesh; belatedly, Essek realizes he's crying - weeping, really. Caleb holds him through it, tense with concern. Essek pulls him backwards without meaning to, until he is sprawled back on the bed with Caleb's comforting weight atop him.

It is a long few minutes before the tremors subside. Essek clutches at Caleb's shirt like a lifeline. "I'm sorry," he finally manages, hiccuping. "I don't know what came over me -"

"No apologies, my love," Caleb hushes him. "Are you hurt? Did I..."

Essek shakes his head. "It felt so good," he sniffles, a fresh wave of tears streaming down his face. "I don't know why I - it's just a lot, I -"

Caleb kisses his forehead and his cheeks, producing a handkerchief from somewhere to dab gently at Essek's tear-stained face. "It's okay to be overwhelmed," he says. "You did so well, you took so much for me. So beautiful, so brave."

Caleb's soothing voice spills praise for what feels like an eternity before Essek is finally able to unclench his hands and relax his death-grip on Caleb's shirt. "Thank you," he says, instead of trying to apologize again as his sex-addled mind wants. "For taking care of me."

"I will always take care of you," Caleb says gravely. "For as long as I draw breath." His hands go to the clasps of Essek's jewelry, gently detaching the dangling chains and slipping them from Essek's sweaty skin. He touches the collar in an unspoken question; Essek nods. With a twist of Caleb's fingers, it falls free from Essek's throat. "How can I help you right now? You need water and some food, certainly. Would you like a bath?"

Essek shakes his head. "Not yet," he says. "Can we just - lie here, for a little bit, first?"

"Of course," Caleb says. "For as long as you like."

Essek closes his eyes, safely held, and drifts.